Mindlessly, my hand reached up from beside me, my fingertips begging for just a touch. My hands craved to feel the body made perfectly for mine, to feel every curve and every dip, to feel every scar that illustrated the path he took to get to me. My...
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~•~
"You're a coward."
"I'm sorry." I begged, grasping his shirt tightly within my fingers. "I had no other choice."
"Everyone has a choice." He said, all emotion sinking from his face as he roughly pried my hands from his shirt. "And you made yours."
I shot up abruptly, effectively snapping myself out of the horrid dream I've had every day for the past six months. As usual I found myself sweating from head to toe, trembling with the aftershock of such a grueling nightmare. Through my distress, I saw Lance take notice of me out of the corner of my eye.
"Same one?" He asked quietly after a few moments of allowing me to collect myself. I nodded wordlessly, my throat bound with anxiety.
I heard him stand from his post beside the campfire, making his way over to offer his comfort, something I desperately needed at the moment. His arms wrapped themselves around me tightly, acting as an anchor that grounded me from my endless spiraling. I shut my eyes, letting out a shaky breath as I allowed myself to be held.
"Thank you." Was all I could choke out as I grasped the material of his sweater tightly.
His only response was a brotherly kiss to my head, the familiar gesture easing the strain in my chest even if only slightly. His hand ran up and down my back in a soothing rhythm, allowing my muscles to slowly fall from their tense hold. As I began to drift, I felt my tears come to a slow stop.
One more breath of release escaped my chest as I felt Lance move me from his embrace, gently lying me back against Tyler's wolf. The familiar warmth and the soft cushion of his coat made me sigh in content, my mind shutting down as I finally released Lance from my death grip.
As I fell back into deep slumber, my last thought was the simple hope that this time my mind would bring me dreams of vibrance and lightheartedness. Something that opposed the literal and figurative nightmare I lived everyday.
If I took every hit this life had to offer with no complaint, could I not at least have peace in the darkness?
~
Hands.
The second I felt a pair of hands touch me abruptly, my fist shot out on instinct, having been fresh in the middle of another nightmare. The assailant was agile enough to dodge my attack, though suddenly another pair of hands gently grabbed me from behind to contain my blows.
"Damnit- Gray!" A familiar voice called.
I stopped thrashing against my captors hold, suddenly noticing that Johnny was stood before me, eyes fighting to catch mine as he called my name. I looked at him in confusion, suddenly realizing that I was surrounded by a familiar scent.
