𝐜𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐞'𝐬𝐞 - 𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯

Alleviation

alleviation • gn!reader
You continue helping Din recover from the traumatizing removal of his helmet, trying to make him understand that it's okay to not be okay. (part two of Irrevocable)

—§—

One dreadful night during that first week is exactly when you realize Din's road to recovery is going to be even longer than you'd anticipated.

You awake because of the heavy breaths you feel against your chest and neck, your eyes widening to double their size as you look down and notice Din's eyes squeezed shut so tightly that there's wrinkles around the skin there. He whimpers a few times, his forehead coated in a cool layer of sweat as his grip around your waist progressively gets tighter. You start to sit up as you lightly tap Din's shoulder.

"Din," you call for him, your voice a hushed whisper as you try to pull him out of his nightmare.

Din doesn't wake up. Instead, his body trembles more against yours, his hands gripping you so tightly you're afraid he may accidentally leave marks behind.

"Din, riduur, please," you say with a little more volume this time. You don't want to scare him, but he's still trapped in his nightmare, his whimpering getting more frequent as you can feel your own panic rising at the sight of it. "Din—," you apply more pressure to his shoulder, biting your lip as it still does nothing, "—Din—!"

Finally, he awakens with a gasp, his dark eyes full of fear in a way that immediately sends your heart down into your stomach as he sits up from his place with you. His hands, still trembling, release your waist and touch the sides of his own face. "My helmet," he breathes with horror—evidently still stuck in the world of his nightmare. "It's—," he cuts himself off, instead just seeming to notice you as he furrows his brow and cowers away, "don't hurt me."

Your stomach twists up into a sickening knot at his whispered words. "Din, my love, it's just me," you remind him in a soft voice, making the mistake of starting to reach a hand out towards him.

Din immediately launches himself further away from you, burying himself into the corner of the bed as his hands cover his face. "Please, don't—don't touch me," Din pleads, his voice cracking as he heaves a breath. "I'll—I'll do anything, just don't... don't touch me again. Please."

"Okay, riduur, I won't touch you," you assure him, resting your hands upon your lap in a place where he can see them. His use of "again" reassures you that it's nothing you've done, only his nightmare haunting him. "I promise."

You then sit in a heavy and tense silence for a few moments, unsure of exactly what to do for fear of making him more afraid. Instead, you let him breathe, remaining where you are as you watch his shaking hands slowly leave his face. You can see his face morphing from its expression of fear to one of horror as the realization dawns on him. Din's dark eyes, already misty from the events of his nightmare, fill even more with tears as he swallows hard. His gaze looks to the ceiling as he runs a trembling hand over his unruly curls, his eyes closing as he stays there.

You try so hard to keep your mouth shut, wanting everything to be on his own terms as you chew your lower lip. Yet, there's only so much you can do with your heart absolutely twisting inside your chest, watching the man you love suffer so greatly right in front of you. You break at the same moment he does, a prolonged and rugged sob falling from his lips as he reopens his eyes to look at you again. "Din, ner riduur," you call out for him softly, slowly yet surely making your way over to where he's still cowered in the corner. "I'm here."

This time, he eagerly responds to your invitation, sitting up towards you before he lets himself practically fall upon your shoulder. You're eager to catch him as his arms wrap around your waist again, still tight but much more gentle than before as Din tries his best not to weep. You want to tell him to stop holding himself back from what he needs to feel, but he speaks first. "I'm sorry," Din apologizes, his rasp cracking as he buries his face in your neck. "I'm so sorry, cyare, I don't know why—I thought I was... I—."