He struggles with touch. She struggles with trust. How could these two, afraid of necessities of love, ever come to need each other?
* * *
Ulyssa Miller, a proud college student in psychology, strives to become the best therapist she can be in o...
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♛ ♛ ♛
Vincent watched me stir in my half-sleep and carefully slid into bed beside me, shaking my arm a bit.
When I jolted up, panting out of my nightmare, he wrapped his arms around me silently. Hearing me sob like this only hurt his heart.
Hallucinating my father. Watching Jason be taken away. I didn't know who would truly leave or stay.
"I'm here, baby," Vincent whispered, "You're safe."
My loud sobs turned into small whines and gentle shakes within seconds.
Why were those the words that always brought me peace?
He laid back down with me and allowed me to crawl over onto him like he always did. When I was comfortable enough upon his stomach, he caved around me with his warm arms.
"I'm sorry for not laying with you sooner, princess," he whispered and rubbed my back. He knew I needed him to avoid bad dreams, but with everything going on recently, he's been so busy. He'd have to make more time for his baby bear from now on.
I started to complain. "I don't want to go to sleep ever again."
"Why princess? What were you dreaming about?"
I clenched his shirt, holding back more tears. "Nothing."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Do you want a spanking?"
I shook my head fastly and used his hand to cover my face. He almost laughed at my sudden action. "Then stop lying and tell me. You have to learn how to talk things out, princess. Especially if you want to be a therapist."
I started to suck on his fingers, frowning. "I was dreaming about my ex..."
Vincent stiffened from underneath me, "Alright...and?"
"There were scawy monsters chasing after us," I sniffed, gnawing on Vincent's fingertips lightly, "and he pushed me out of the way from getting hurt. He held up the number seven before he died."
Vincent's heart began to beat faster against my ear, "What do you think it means?"
I hiccuped a little, "I-it was our special number. We were seven when we met, a-and he asked me to be his girlfriend on the seventh of July."
Vincent sat up a bit to grab a handkerchief from his nightstand, dabbing the slobber and snot away from my mouth. "You're going to be okay princess. From now on, we're going to read a story every night before bed, okay?"
"Okays," I responded tiredly.
He laid back down and rubbed the small of my back slowly, humming the song I heard him sing the first day in his office.
He had the voice of an angel. Low. Subtle. On key. It was everything.
"Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top...when the wind blows the cradle will rock..."
