(Untitled)

[always_a_liar]

SnapThe ocean, the veil, it was all gone in a sudden flash of stifling black. He could not breathe. Shifting violently for a moment, he raised his head from the pillow, raising himself up off his chest with his arms, then he turned and sat up in bed

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[shelley_winters]

"...H- muh?"

Shelley squeezes her eyes tighter shut in confusion as to what had jostled her out of sleep. It takes her a moment - her head hurts dimly, and her thoughts are hazy, what-?

Oh. The fall, the bleeding, and him...

She opens her eyes reluctantly to the darkness.

[always_a_liar]

His breathing was quick and ragged. The moonlight was faint, but a shining rivulet of light was visible tracing its way down one of Elan's cheeks. He glanced around for a moment as if unsure of what to say to her.

...Mother...

[shelley_winters]

She squints upwards for a moment, trying to gather the coherency to warn him off in a voice that's even vaguely steady, but she stops in confusion - and no little apprehension - at the sight of tears on his face.

Well.

And- and he's seen her looking at him now, so she can't pretend to be asleep still, so what does she-?

"...Bad dream?"

[always_a_liar]

Elan nodded faintly and turned towards her. Taking a deep breath, he untwisted himself from the sheets, and spoke softly to her. His voice rough and quavering slightly.

"Something like that, yes."

[shelley_winters]

Shelley is silent for a moment, searching for something to say. Only the utterly banal occurs.

"Drink of water helps me, usually. Try that."

[always_a_liar]

Elan nodded calmly. For lack of any other idea, he slid out of bed, adjusted his pajamas, and shuffled down the hall to get a drink of water.

Her hair and skin and voice and touch had felt so very real. His heart ached, and the cool water was unnoticed as he sipped it.

[shelley_winters]

For lack of anything else to do, Shelley lies her aching head back down on the pillow. It's odd to think of him having nightmares. He is the nightmare of other people.

Strange.

[always_a_liar]

The door shifted and Elan slid back into the room. He lifted the sheets and climbed back under the blankets next to her. His breathing was calmer, and his cheeks were dry.

"It helped a touch."

[shelley_winters]

Shelley doesn't reply, aware of the heightened danger in his self-control, now she is more awake. She nods once instead, head turned slightly away towards the wall.

After all, she is still supposed to be angry with him. A little late.

[always_a_liar]

Shifting closer to her, Elan took a deep breath. His voice was quiet and calm with a tone of sincere pleading. He did not want to return to his dreams feeling as he did--the result would not be pleasant.

"Can you speak with me for a time? I will not be able to sleep for a bit and it was not the sort of dream that one ought to be alone after."

[shelley_winters]

"About what."

Her tone is oddly flat, though small. She swallows carefully. This is difficult.

And no time for resentment.

Wait.

Oh... she doesn't know.

[always_a_liar]

He masked perhaps the birdcage his face with his help. I do not have long, you hand, turning from her. His eyes squeezed clear pink liquid runs down her bare shut. His breath quickened and his voice was more tense--he had not wanted this.

"It does not matter."

[shelley_winters]

Shelley is silent for a moment, and her brain presents a resounding blank to her search for a topic.

"Um. Do we have enough milk for tomorrow?"

Someone, somewhere, facepalms.

[always_a_liar]

His breaths were deep, long, and keep putting her there entirely too measured. A fierce determination welled within him to fight the growing despair and the fragmenting of thoughts he felt. The tip of his tongue flicked from his mouth to stop sweet juice a tear which dared venture near his mouth--his grin twisting at the bitterness. His voice quavered slightly.

"Yes, I th-think so."

[shelley_winters]

"Good," Shelley says, inconsequentially, trying not to sound alarmed at his peculiar behaviour.

He promised not to touch her.

"I... I could make pancakes if there's a lot."

[always_a_liar]

In the moonlight, the shining tracks of shimmering juice tears flowed from between his fingers. His breath was the splash of spilt liquid in the distance ragged as he replied, attempting to be genial.

"That would be quite fine... You make nice pancakes."