Good Morning

Fourteenth Morning

It doesn't take long for the lights to shut off completely, and for the room to fade from its glow.

"Nya?" He utters softly, barely audible.

She can hear her name leaving his lips, but she can't quite seem to bring herself to answer, not when he's speaking her name over and over again. And when he finally notices that he hasn't seen her around anywhere in what seems like ages, he wakes with a start, his eyes searching for any sign of her.

"Nya! Please!" His voice is aching with desperation, and it takes all the willpower in the world for her to not rush to him.

She swallows back a wave of fear that threatens to break loose, taking her whole body with it. She couldn't be there. Not now. She couldn't watch him fall apart, just because she can't help herself. Maybe that's why she holds herself back, so no one else has to see it. No one else will have to witness her own failings. It won't happen again. This time she'll manage her feelings better. Even if it kills her.
That's what she tells herself.

But then she remembers the way his face looked when he'd discovered the truth behind her presence. When he realized that she wasn't coming to him out of concern for his well-being. She tried to tell herself that this time it would be different. She could handle this better.

But then she thinks about how it was all too much. All too fast, and all she wanted was to escape the reality of it. Escape his reality. So she slips back into bed, ignoring the way he looks at her, and the way his hand remains trapped in her hair. She ignores the way his eyes search for her, and the way his chest still moves rapidly with breaths he can't control. She ignores it all because that's all she can do. That's all she has to do, and nothing more.

They both awake to the same alarm, and neither of them move. They both stay still, with their minds racing at the possibilities of where they are.

"Nya?" He calls softly into the darkness, and she feels her heart skip a beat. She knows he's going to say it. That he's going to ask her if she slept with him.

She doesn't want to lie. Doesn't want to lie to him.
But she also doesn't want to admit to sleeping in his bed.

Maybe he wasn't even asleep. Maybe he was waiting for her to wake up so he could apologize, and they could continue their conversation from earlier today. But she knew he wasn't. She could feel his heart beating against hers when she had settled in, but now it's stilled.

"Nya?" he asks again, but this time it's accompanied by another light touch at her arm. "Are you alright?"
She breathes out in a shuddering gasp, and tries to ignore the way his voice sounds so worried. She's never heard him sound like that before. Like he cares about her. About what happens to her.

She turns around, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness of his room as she pulls herself closer to him. "I'm fine."

His hands slide to her hips, and he cups her cheeks, tilting her head up towards his. His eyes are soft and sweet, and she can't help but let him pull her close, even when he places his forehead against hers.

"I've missed you," he murmurs, sounding sad.

She can't find the words to respond, and she knows she shouldn't try anyway.

He pulls away a bit, turning her to face away from him and presses a kiss to the side of her neck. "Did you sleep well?" he asks in a husky whisper.

"I don't remember."

He chuckles, a low rumble that makes her shiver. She's not sure if it's because of the way his breath tickles against the nape of her neck, or how his hands remain on her waist.