Two Minds (Sequel to Glowing Eyes)

1

Anti bolts upright, clutching at his chest as he gulps lungfuls of air. Sweat pours from him, drenching the sheets and mingling with the tears silently slipping down his cheeks. His eyes glow softly in the dim light.

In seconds he's frantically reaching out for you, to remind himself that yes, you were safe and you were alive and you were right there beside him.

Except, you aren't. His hands meet empty sheets.

Anti's panic skyrockets. He stumbles from your shared bed, lurching to the lightswitch, hoping beyond hope that you'll be there when the lights come on.

He takes a moment to let his eyes adjust to the sudden bright light. The room is a mess, clothes strewn everywhere and various other trinkets scattered on every available space.

The bed is emtpy.

Sheets tangled and thrown away, pillows crumpled up from Anti's thrashing but no you.

He starts shaking. No, this can't be true. He remembers, you had been with him only a few hours ago. Had he dreamed the whole thing? He couldn't have! Could he?

Anti's thoughts jumble in his head, leaving no room for anything else. His only concern is you.

He doesn't even notice that his knees give out, hands pulling at his hair as he desperately tries to remember. Tries to seperate his nightmares from reality.

Sobs shake his body, the lights flickering as his power leaks. Panic consumes him.

You open the door, unaware of the trouble you have caused. You're surprised by the sight of the flickering light but it's Anti's loud and ugly sobs that catch your attention.

You're by his side in moments, crouching down to his level. Hands running over his shoulders, gently shaking him out of his panic. It takes a moment for the touch to register.

When it does, he lunges forward, wrapping himself around you. His hands clutch at the back of your night-shirt, head buried in your neck.

Anti babbles through his tears, about his nightmare, about his panic, his fear when he couldn't find you. You listen carefully, soothing him with soft hushes and words. Your hands run through his hair as he slowly regains control of his still frantic breathing.

He still clings to you. You feel him shake against you, almost as if he were sitting out in the snow.

You sit with him, gently rocking him, patiently waiting for him to be ok.

This is the norm for you now. Nightmares and comforting. And for him, you have all the patience in the world.