Savior

The Girl and The Card

*EARLY UPDATE SO MAKE SURE YOU READ THE LAST CHAPTER, "THE BOY I LOVE"

Monday

There is no greater agony than watching the ones you love suffer.

And suffer, Layla does.

It's the same routine every morning for the last week since convincing Layla to stay, since finding out that bastard of an ex of hers has stalked her all the way across the pond. Since I convinced Layla to move most of her things into my flat temporarily, so I could make sure she is safe.

Now I'm glad I did.

Every night, without fail, Layla wakes in a cold sweat, screaming out my name, her eyes wide in a panicked terror that chills me to the bone and her pillow soaked with tears.

It takes me at least an hour of hushed assurances, comforting caresses, and dumb jokes to get any sign of life back into her eyes. She'll just sit there after a nightmare -shaking uncontrollably, face completely ashen, and eyes devoid of any light -any hope.

When she does eventually calm down enough to where her eyes aren't filled with dread and her body stops shaking, she says nothing to me. She stays silent and still until she falls into a dead and peaceful sleep from sheer emotional and physical exhaustion.

I, on the other hand, can't bring myself to sleep after witnessing that.

Instead, I watch and make sure he doesn't haunt her dreams again until sun begins to shine light across her soft skin and a new day begins.

She will stretch and yawn and look right up at me with that sweet little smile of hers and pretend that the night before never happened; like everything is normal.

Though, we both know it's not.

And, tonight is no different.

I am jostled awake by a sudden fitfulness beside me. As if my body is used to it by now, my eyes snap open in alert while my mind remains foggy -my body fully awake before my brain is.

Following the jerking is the heart-breaking sound of soft whimpers and desperate cries. I jerk upright, needing to wake her before the worst part comes, I can't bear to hear her scream my name with so much pain.

Not again. It might just kill me.

Just as my name begins to slip through her lips in a confused mumble I gently shake her arm.

She turns slightly, as if awake, but her face is contorted in fear and her voice is choked, "No, please... Don't..." She trails off, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple as I jostle her again, more roughly this time.

Still, she remains dead to the world and mumbles are growing increasingly more hysteric and I begin to panic now, wanting to wake her before the shrieking.

"Layla, wake up... You have to wake up... Please, Layla!"

My own voice is strained with hurt and she lurches suddenly, pushing me away so violently I almost fall off the bed.

And then the screaming begins.

"Stop! Don't hurt him," She is crying now and I am shaking her as hard as I can without hurting her and then, the most heart-breaking yet, "Harry, no! Ha-"

"Layla, wake up!"

It's so loud the walls echo the shout back to me, but it's effective because Layla snaps awake. She sits up so quickly she almost head-butts me, her eyes shining with unshed tears that do little to conceal her pain, her alarm.