I have emerged from a months-long art drought to throw this at you and then retreat back into my cave.
This crossed my dash immediately after reading the newest chapter of Nine and a half Weeks by CumberCurlyGirl and Kameo (BrainyGiirl). This can’t be coincidence… It’s too perfect!!!
The sounds that woke me from my fitful sleep have ceased.
The sounds of fear. Of pain.
I turn to leave. I want to stay. I want to stand by his bed and watch him sleep, but I don’t.
He moans.
I turn back.
“John,” I say.
He whimpers.
I open the door. Just a crack.
“John,” I repeat.
He doesn’t answer, and now I hear his rapid breathing. Fragments of words.
“Murr…waa…no!”
I push the door open.
He’s tangled in the sheets, and the moonlight shows the sweat on his brow. His torment makes my heart ache. I can only imagine what horrors live in his dreams.
So much pain. So much loss.
My brave soldier.
I sit on the bed. Place my hand on his shoulder.
“John.”
His eyes open. Wild and searching.
But I’m not the enemy.
He relaxes.
I lie beside him. Pull him to me.
He lets me.
I cradle him against my chest. I stroke his hair.
He sobs.
“I’ve got you,” I say. I kiss his forehead, then stop, afraid I’ve overstepped.
