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Somewhere in the midst of the morning, after a night of barely nightmare-interrupted sleep, my drowsy, heavy lids stretched to a reluctant opening, easing to a flutter that struggled to take in the fine lines and crevices of the fluffy pillow's cover, pressed comfortably right to my face.
I groaned low and long, scrunching my eyes closed once more to squeeze the warmth of the body beside me.
Nothing.
My arm fell through the empty air.
"Benny?" I mumbled.
No response.
I bolted upright, forcefully staggering to an awakeness I steadied myself upon and blinking my tired eyes frantically in the pursuit of shaking off all the sleep that had clouded them in a dreamy haze. My hands pressed to the ground on either side of me, stabilizing me, and beneath the one that rested in Benny's vacant spot, still containing the ghost-like imprint of his head in the puffy pillow next to mine, something crinkled beneath my palm.
He'd been right there.
I could'a sworn he had been right there.
He'd been right there in the middle of the night, when I'd awoken abruptly, hands balled into tight fists and insistently getting up out of the sheets to check every door, every crevice of his room for the crimson-clad shadows that I was sure had been tugging and tearing at my limbs just seconds before.
He'd been there, patiently sitting up in the arrangement of sheets and pillows until I'd exhausted my search, eliminated all the possible options of where the subject of my nightmares possibly could have been hiding, and welcomed me back into the thick, warm sheets and the fluffy pillows and the comforting beat of his heart in his chest that I rested my head upon.
No judgement nor pity every crossed his face. I'd been glad for that. And if he'd felt it in any way, he made no telling of it -- even better.
If he pitied me, judged me for waking on full alert in a cold sweat, I would'a marched right out of his suite and headed off back to my own, regardless of how much he hated to sleep alone.
He'd been there, his hands clutching my body close to his and innocently, kindly caressing my skin in a steady back-and-forth of his thumb. Any other time, I would have been concerned that all that touching and holding was pity-touching.
It wasn't.
I knew that.
"Go back to sleep, Nev, baby..." Benny had muttered, his voice low and gruff from all his interrupted sleep, and had squeezed me closer, planting a drowsy kiss directly over the 'X' that marked the spot he'd made on my forehead. "You're gonna need all that energy to put up with House's bullshit later..."
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Nevada: High Roller (Fallout New Vegas)
Fanfiction"Being shot in the head will teach you two very important things about life. The first thing it teaches you is that you're tempting fate when you take a shortcut on your delivery route through a graveyard. When you're already surrounded by the dea...
