✣ Chapter Thirty-Four ✣

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Healing Gabriel: Chapter Thirty-Four

                                            〒|〒Evan's POV〒|〒

      The second time I woke up, it was to peacefulness, thank God. The late morning sunlight seemed to seep in through the spaces between white, partially opened blinds, bathing the room in a warm gold. A few dots appeared in front of my eyes as I tried to blink away the fuzziness of sleep. I couldn't help the leisure smile on my lips when I noticed that the plain, sun-coated bedroom walls around me looked as if they were covered in polka dots. Ha-ha, polka dots. Those things are so weird.

      When I tried to stretch my cramped muscles out, I realized that I couldn't. A body was keeping me still, warming me more than the blankets drifting down my torso ever could. I tilted my head to the side as much as I could to try and get a better look at the exhausted, blond-haired angel sleeping soundlessly next to me without disrupting him. His blond hair was dry now, looking so soft that it seemed to only dust across his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed a bit, his jaw locked as if he was gritting his teeth. He was not tranquil like other people were when they slept. Then again, he never slept peacefully. His eyelids were draped over his gunmetal blue eyes like pale blankets, his dark lashes blending in with the dark circles beneath his eyes, reminding me of his tiredness and making me recall the early morning chaos.

      Seeing him like that, in such a lucid, hysterical state, made my eyes start to sting all over again. I remembered his screaming and sobs and the way he tried to get away from me, begging me to leave him alone, as if he had forgotten who I was. As if he thought I was him, the man who destroyed him. That part definitely hurt the most, definitely took a huge toll on me. He used to respond to my touches as soon as they happened; he would relax as soon as my fingers coursed through his thick mane of hair. Nowadays it was starting to take a bit longer for him to get over any sudden panic attacks. It seemed as if he was trying to will himself to calm down rather than being immediately lulled by me.

      Were we starting to lose our connection? I asked myself, looking up at the white ceiling. My throat felt tight, probably from the heavy emotions I was feeling. Was he really so broken that even I could no longer help him?

      No, I argued back against my pessimistic thoughts. No, that's not true. None of that could be true. I was still helping him, still affecting him in positive ways; he had told me that himself. Plus, we trusted each other--I knew he trusted me, that he wasn't just saying it. I remembered the look in his eyes, watering with some sort of relief, as if he couldn't believe he was finally able to trust someone again. He trusted me to help him, to keep him safe, and I promised him I would. And if things got harder, I'd be right there with him to challenge the obstacle.

      Last night was one hell of an obstacle, though. It unnerved me to the point where I nearly broke down in sobs with him. I'd had no idea what to do at one point, no idea how to help him, and when he started clawing at his arms, making himself bleed--

      A soft sigh took control of my thoughts as Gabriel moved against me. I glanced over at him to see if he'd awoken, but he was still fast asleep, only much closer to me now. Our legs were still tangled underneath the blanket, but his movements had caused his right leg to hike higher up, his thigh centimeters away from my crotch. His mouth was nearly pressed against my jaw, his light pink lips parted the slightest bit, allowing his breath to fan the area with each exhale that escaped him.

      That, you see, was a problem. A problem that wasn't as severe as last night's/early morning's, but a problem nonetheless. I was already sporting a little bit of morning wood, and he wasn't helping it. Well, if you think about, he kinda was . . .

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