enemies to lovers one shots

nightmare

I awoke with a start. 

The cool breeze of the forest had gone from whispers to whimpers. I rolled over to my left side, wincing as the rocks beneath me dug into my back and legs. Lord knew I'd have scratches and bruises everywhere after tonight. 

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I focused my attention on the large figure beside me. 

The source of the whimpers.

He almost looked peaceful while he slept, not like the scowl his face constantly molded into every time we spoke. 

But the line between his brows and the frown on his face made him looked troubled - even while he lay unconscious. 

I wondered what he was dreaming of. Or rather, what the nightmare was. 

He shifted slightly before the grunts got louder. 

I hesitated, shall I wake him?

If it were any other time - such as when he spoke to me with his angry eyes and scornful lips - I would have ignored him, let him suffer. 

But he looked so pained, so fearful. He wore an expression I had never seen on his face before, not even when we were faced with the most challenging of trials. 

"No!" he called out, talking in his sleep.

I jumped in surprise, and got up, ignoring whatever doubts plagued my mind. 

Grabbing the lamp next to me, I lit it, illuminating his figure as I kneeled down beside him. 

My hands found his shoulder and side, and softly, I shook him, trying to get him to wake up. 

He gasped and he sat up in a flurry, his hands yanking onto my arms with hard pressure.

His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he found my eyes, the panic slowly leaving his face.

"Hey, you're okay," I reassured, ignoring the pressure on my arms. 

Realizing it was me, his expression once again returned to its angry setup. I glowered inside, why did I even bother trying?

He looked away, and I could see the beads of sweat on his neck, glowing in the light of the lamp. 

"I'm okay," he said, "I'm fine... just go back to sleep," his voice wavered slightly, and it sounded like he was reassuring himself more than me. 

He might have been stubborn, but I was more stubborn than anyone. 

He had turned away from me, and I could see he was still affected by whatever he'd dreamt of. 

I gripped his shoulder, forcing him to turn and face me. I ignored his expression and focused on his dark brown eyes. 

Only his eyes.

I wanted to yell at him, scream at him, force him to stop acting like such a jerk, and explain himself for once. 

But all I did was whisper softly. I cared for him more than I wanted to admit, more than I would ever admit to him. "You can talk to me, you know." I said. My voice was barely audible to even my own ears, but I knew he had heard me. 

The forest was asleep. Save for us and the demons that plagued us. 

"Look, I said I'm-"

He was pushing me away again, but I wouldn't let him. 

"I know what fine is," I told him. My voice was still soft, but now stern. I would not accept his weak excuses any longer, "and you are not fine."

He was silent. I could see the muscles of his jaw twitch, and unspoken words left his mouth. Futile arguments and frail claims. 

"I don't need you to tell me your secrets, but something's obviously bothering you... and I'm here to listen. What else have I got to do?"

He still didn't speak.

I sighed, trying once more, "What is it? What's making you cry out at night... giving you nightmares?"

He looked down for a second, before meeting my eyes. They looked pained but relenting, and for a second I hoped he would confide in me.

"You," he whispered, his voice soft as the breeze that carried through the woods. 

I was wrong. What could I have expected from someone like him? Even at a time like this, he couldn't help expressing his hatred for me. 

I knew the anger on my face was visible now, I glared angrily at him, turning away to head back to sleep. What a waste of energy.

He grabbed my wrist again, pulling me back and stopping me from leaving. 

I refused to turn around and meet his wretched face. 

"Wait," he whispered, "please... listen."

His voice was begging, and the world didn't have enough hatred to stop me from turning around to meet his desperate face. 

I cocked my head to the side, signaling him to go on. This was the last straw, if he messed up again, I would refuse to ever speak to him.

"I wasn't lying," he said, "The nightmares... they were because of you. It was just... you in them. You were burning, trapped... screaming for me to help, and... and I couldn't do anything. I just watched you burn."

My face softened with realization but my mind went into a panic of questions and assumptions.

Could he really care for me? Beneath his angry face and constant frown, was there real concern? I didn't want to ask, fearing embarrassment and awkwardness. 

His grip on my wrist had loosened, but I wrapped both my hands around his and squeezed once reassuringly. 

"I'm not burning, and I don't plan on doing so anytime soon," I smiled softly at him, something I'd never done before, "And anyways, don't be ridiculous, we both know if I were burning I'd escape just to drag you down in the flames with me."

I made a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, and miraculously, it somehow worked. His light pink lips curved slightly upward, another foreign expression. 

I felt as though we'd gotten much closer tonight, and I couldn't help but wonder what things would be like between us the next morning. If they would stay the same and I would be met with another impassive face or angry growl... or if maybe, we'd work together as partners... maybe even friends.

"I'll see you in the morning," I said, ready to leave his thoughtful gaze so I could sort through my chaotic thoughts, "Get some sleep."

I knew I wouldn't be able to, what with all the new information circulating my brain.

His lips grew into an almost smile, "Don't be ridiculous," he said, copying my words, "we both know neither of us will be sleeping for the rest of the night."

He winked, and I forced myself to stop my jaw from dropping wide open. Since when did he smile? Since when were we playful? Since when did he wink?

And why did he look so good doing it?

I blinked, not having the capability to form a response, and nodded dumbly. I grabbed the lamp and headed back to where I had set up the measly sheet as a bedspread. The movements were thoughtless, every ounce of my energy focused on him. Replaying his words, his actions, his curved lips in my head. 

Daylight was still hours away, and I'd be awake to watch the dusk fade into dawn - a sight that usually made me happy - but I was dreading it.

If things between us weren't awkward enough, they would be now. At least from my end. I didn't know how to react to this new man beside me, and as much as I preferred him over the grumpy asshole, I didn't know if I wanted to see that version in the morning. 

I'd make a fool of myself instantly.