Swallow Your Affection

You're Important

You weren't sure what exactly woke you up.

All you knew was that you were sleeping one moment- filled with the happy moments of the day prior- and the next, your eyes were peeling themselves open. Wide- unconcentrated- narrowing in on nothing but the pitch black room.

The small part of your body that ran on instinct knew that someone was looking at you, the hairs on your arm silently prickled with goosebumps- or whatever sort of self preservation your body still had. It just knew someone was looking.

You were awake.

Barely.

Your eyes were open, but your vision was bleary- your hands came up to rub at your eyes but the muscles were sluggish.

You heard an unsteady almost person like noise near the side of your bed, and you flinched immediately, sitting upright and staring wide eyed at what it could be.

No words came from whoever it was, but the second an uneasy sounding breath was let out, you knew exactly who it was.

Tommy.

It's just Tommy.

Things are fine.

A sigh of relief puffs out of you, and you deflate into a hunched cross legged position.

"You had me freaked man-" Your hand rubs at your face, still trying to wipe the sleep away- still struggling to fully understand why your brain was waking up.

Again, a shaky breath comes from Tommy, and suddenly you're much more alert.

"Tommy...?"

Another shuddered breath comes from him, and you blindly reach an arm out into the darkness to hesitantly rest it on his shoulder. It took a moment to actually find him, but when you did, your hand rested heavily.

"Tommy- are you good...?"

"...No...?" He croaks, and without a moments hesitation you pat the side of your bed.

"Sit-"

He does so wordlessly, and you sit in silence next to him as he tries to control his breathing.

There's a long silence- one that you understand, and don't try and break.

Breaking it would only pressure him-

So you let your presence be enough.

For a good few minutes he on and off had trouble controlling his breathing, sometimes shivering to the point that the bed would shake, yet patiently you wait.

Without the torches lit, the room was drenched in darkness. It was pitch black, leaving nothing to look at except for an abyss, and yet your eyes flicker across it, scanning and re-scanning for anything that could be dangerous.

As if whatever had Tommy so scared was out there in the darkness, and you had to be physically ready for it when it inevitably attacked.

His breathing steadied itself.

And when it didn't fall apart after another good two minutes, you found the words to ask him what was wrong.

"Nightmare?" You mutter, timid in your assumption, but understanding when you hear him hum in agreement.

"Want to talk about it?" You ask.

No response comes from him, and again, you let him take his time.

Things like this are sensitive, and you knew not to force it.

Almost like before, it's silent- Tubbo's faint snoring dimly being recognized by your mind.