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Pillow Talk At 3 AM
Restless nights lead to passion’s play.
“Can’t get back to sleep?” Ethan asked, his voice a spark in the dark of their bedroom. He rubbed circles into Claire’s back, the motion helping lull her away from the nightmare she had just awoken from. She closed her eyes, the pounding headache subsiding as she focused on his touch grounding her in the moment.
“No,” she said, miserable, and he drew her into his arms, squeezing tight enough that she knew she wasn’t alone.
“I know you’re struggling,” Ethan murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “but we’re perfectly fine. Do you understand that? The nightmares can’t get us. Our life is full of light, Claire.”
“I want to believe it,” she said, “but it’s so dark. It’s so dark, and I can’t see a thing.”
“Do you want a light on? Would that help?”
“No,” she said, “that’s not the kind of darkness I’m talking about.”
Ethan fell into silence even as he continued to press his hand to her back. “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he admitted, “but I trust you. You know that, right? Right?”
“I’m sorry I have so much trouble trusting people,” she admitted, “especially you. You, when you’re so good to me. You, when you deserve so much better than me.”
