Good god, what is this?
I don't even know what this is. But I couldn't get myself to delete it. But I also want it to not exist anymore. So it's private and still alive. Compromise. This journal makes me want to punch my 18 year old self in the face.
He was running and he didn’t know why. Didn’t know anything, except that if he didn’t hurry, he wouldn’t make it in time. It might even already be too late.
Someone was in trouble. Someone important, someone he needed, who needed him. So he ran. His lungs burned, his bare feet were raw and bleeding from the rough forest floor, but still he kept running. It was pouring rain and he could barely see five feet in front of him. Branches kept striking against his bare arms and face, leaving stinging cuts behind, and his legs were beginning to go numb where they had previously ached. But he didn’t slow down, not even when he stumbled and almost fell. Not even when he did fall did he slow his frantic running.
Suddenly he was out of the forest and on the edge of a huge tree-less plain. The rain was still pouring just as hard, but he could make out two figures in the distance. As he watched, one of the figures suddenly crumpled to the ground. A wave of ice-cold fear shot down his spine and curled in slimy strands around his stomach the instant he made out the long, blonde hair of the still standing figure. But that was nothing compared to the complete and utter terror that numbed his whole body and squeezed his stomach into nothing when he finally made out the fallen figure.
“ORPHEUS!”
Tori bolted upright, cold sweat pouring down his body. His shirt was already completely soaked and he shivered, whether from the coldness of the damp cloth covering his chest or from the dream, he wasn’t sure. Rain pounded against the glass of his bedroom window. Normally the sound soothed him and lulled him to sleep, but tonight it only made things worse. It had been raining in his nightmare too.
The apartment was too quiet. He strained his ears in an attempt to hear any sounds of his roommate over the noise of the rain and his own beating heart. After a few moments the terror from his dream flooded back and he shoved away the confining covers and got out of bed. He snagged the nearest shirt off the floor, not caring if it was clean or not, and exchanged it for his sweat-soaked one. As soon as the shirt was in place, he slipped out of his room and into the hall. The short distance from his room to Orpheus’ had never before seemed so long and he breathed a quiet sound of relief when he opened the door and saw the demon sprawled across his bed emitting soft not-quite-snores.
Cautiously, Tori padded over to the bed. It was proof of how used to his presence Orpheus was when he didn’t wake. For a moment he swept his gaze gratefully over the sprawled body noting the even breaths, the lack of wounds, and stacking these against the terror of his dream. Gradually the fear and terror dimmed, but Tori couldn’t make himself return to his own bed. Swallowing nervously, he carefully peeled back the covers and slipped into the remainder of the bed not taken up by long, tan limbs. Now Orpheus did wake, cracking one bleary eye open.
“wut d' fuc….Tori?...S’matter?”
Tori carefully didn’t look into the sleepy gray eye regarding him. Instead he explained to the curve of Orpheus’ elbow.
“Um…I was just..er, wondering if I could sleep....if I could sleep in here tonight. I…ah...it’s just, I…had a dream and….um…”
He trailed off, awkward now that the fear that had gotten him this far was mostly gone. After a few beats of silence, Orpheus just closed his eye again and rolled over to give him more room.
Thoroughly embarrassed, but also greatly relieved, Tori mumbled a goodnight and settled in under the blankets. He was asleep within moments and did not dream for the rest of the night.
In the morning, he is awoken by Orpheus attempting to gently pry his fingers from the strands of hair framing his face. Apparently not only had he twined himself around the other man like a large, human cat sometime in the night, but he'd also tangled his fingers in black hair and pulled the demon's face down to mash against his chest.
Upon realizing this, Tori immediately manages to turn an impressive color that resembles a badly bruised tomato and shoves his way off the bed, only to immediately get to his feet and lock himself in the bathroom under the stuttered pretense of taking a shower.
Standing in the shower, with his face pressed against the cool tile of the wall, Tori curses not only himself and nightmares, but also thin apartment walls. Orpheus’ howling laughter really does nothing helpful to the red color of his face.