“You’re still here…”
He wasn’t talking to you, that much you knew at this point. You felt the mattress on your side dip as he moved closer to you before the bone in his bent fingers feathered across your cheek and his hot breath fanned across your nape. It took everything in you not to stir the closer he got, to shake off the shiver that rattled your spine and speckled you with goose flesh.
This felt like a common occurrence at night now, ever since leaving Magenta and finally being able to feel the wind against his back and the vastness of the sky and world around him. His curiosity of the world around him was insatiable; often busying himself in new things, strange things, difficult things.
Yet, at night, you were reminded that a lifetime of torment and fear would take long to heal–perhaps even longer than you cared to admit. He would rouse in the middle of the night, softly at first, moaning and searching the room as though confused by what he was seeing before he jarred to awareness and sat upright frantically, eyes tracing everything until he saw you.
The panic in his eyes instead washed with relief, shoulders falling forward and he would touch you. He would touch you so delicately, almost reluctantly as though he were afraid you were an illusion, that you would shatter into a million pieces if he did.
“I’m so glad… that you’re here with me,” he whispered into your back, slipping an arm beneath yours to encircle your waist and hold you flush to him. “I know you can’t hear me, but I owe you everything.”
‘You did it all on your own, Saeran. Give yourself more credit.’
“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. Nothing I do seems like it’s enough, I wish I knew how to just express my gratitude to you.” Saeran whispered, voice oddly calm as he pressed his forehead against your neck, his hair left a delicate touch that almost made you shiver again.
A vise gripped your heart at his words, knowing that there was little that you could have said that would’ve made a difference. Even if you had combated his thoughts with words of your own and sweet touches, he would still feel as though something was missing, or he wasn’t doing enough.
You wanted to crush his pain, take away all of his doubts and his fear of not being enough for you. The love he had given you was so wholesome that it brought into question your own devotion at times.
And yet, during the day, you often didn’t see this side of him anymore. He spoke more confidently, boldly, and had blossomed more than you could have ever hoped. He always offered you a reassured smile and a hand, burying his concerns behind a warm smile.
‘Saeran. I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself.’
You felt his muscles tense as you turned to face him, pressing your face against his chest to listen to the thrumming of his heart and gentle breaths. It didn’t take him long to ease against you once again, his arms winding your back to hold you close as you both drifted off to sleep.
‘You’re more than enough for me…’
