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14 hell

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Songs:

And I'm Here (Goblin OST) - Kim Kyung Hee

Halo - Beyoncé

*

I switched off the TV, setting down the remote. I found myself tip toeing to Mason's room, just a little further away from mine. The groans hadn't stopped.

I'd never been in, but when I checked, the door wasn't locked. I swallowed, stepping in.

Mason lay there, amongst the white sheets, his bare chest exposed.

He was writhing, as though he was in physical pain. But his eyes were closed.

I strode to his side without second thought.

He was having a nightmare. A terrible one - by the looks of it. Beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead, matting that dark brown hair that so often framed his brows.

His body shook again as he rasped a labored breath. "NO!" he pleaded, his voice raw, "NO."

A knot formed in my throat. I couldn't stay away -not now. I reached out to touch his brow, his body heat surging through my fingertips. I sat on the edge of his bed, lowering my face to his strained features.

He looked... soft. Vulnerable.

"Mason," I whispered, "Mason you're okay. I'm here. You're okay."

His body seemed to calm down fractionally. I kept whispering variations of words I didn't know I had, when a sudden tremor shot through him.

"Mason, wake up," I said, "Mason."

He reeled awake at the sound, and he blinked up at me with those dark brown eyes, the slats of pale moonlight from the window catching his face at endearing angles.

A fallen angel. I reminded myself. He looked the angel part, this time, with his eyes full of a rare innocence and his chestnut hair plastered to his forehead. His full lips were slightly open as he frantically gasped for air.

And before I knew it, he lurched into my arms. His feverish skin was like molten fire under my palms, his pine scent enveloping me. He tucked his face in the crook of my shoulder and inhaled, and I felt his heartbeat slow under my hands.

He was hugging me.

I smoothed out the initial tension that had come with his embrace, dissolving into his touch. His hand sneaked to the crown of my head as he fisted my hair, his other secured firmly around my lower back.

"Ever," he hummed, against my skin, after what felt like an eternity.

And his voice was so raw, so pure, so void of that usual snark, that I moved a hand to the nape of his neck in a feeble attempt to comfort him from whatever could scare someone like him. His pulse quickened.

I didn't know how long we stayed like that. I lost track of time.

But somehow it was more than just the hard ridges of his stomach against my front. With his body so close to mine and our heartbeats syncing, my own delved into a temporary paralysis. If it weren't so dark, he might have gotten a hint of my scarlet cheeks.

"You pulled me out," he mumbled quietly, his strong arms still around me, "You pulled me out of there."

I nodded against the smooth skin of his shoulder. "I did."

"It was Hell." His voice broke.

My eyes burned. I didn't know what he was talking about. His nightmare had not been real, but his pain -his pain was very, very real.

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