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Something at the edge of the bed tugs at you, pulling the blanket slightly until it has moved enough to rouse you from your peaceful slumber. You don't need to wonder what一 no, who一 it is. Even though your eyes have yet to adjust to the light, he speaks softly and carefully enough that you'd know that voice anywhere.
"Can I come to bed?" Gaara asks timidly, hand bunching the fabric of the blanket in his delicate fist. He tends to stay up a lot later than this, if he comes to sleep at all, so this is surprising. Of course he can come to bed with you, it’s his bed, too, and besides that, you love holding him.
You scoot to the side, allowing enough room in your queen-sized bed for him to crawl in with you. Arms trembling, he lifts the blanket and crawls in, immediately snaking his arms around you. He slots himself directly into the spot inside of the crook of your arm. He sighs, the sound content, and lies quietly for a while. One could easily find the silence to mean that he had gone and fallen asleep, but you know better than that by now. Gaara’s silence typically means he is formulating how to say something that's difficult.
"What's wrong, Gaara?" You question him, hoping to hear what he's thinking if he’s ready to share. His energy isn't telling you that it's something to worry about, like that he would want to break up or anything like that, but you don't like seeing him sad over anything at all. There’s something so heartbreaking about Gaara’s sadness because he doesn’t just frown, he gets full-body sorrow and it’s hard to see.
It seems like he isn't quite ready yet, but instead of pressing him further for answers, you give him some physical comfort. Your left hand comes up from where it had been loosely holding his torso to stroke his hair. Fingers rub small and gentle circles there and you watch as his face twists from sadness into something close to relaxation. In turn, he repeats the motion on your sides with his own fingers after a moment. He's so sweet and kind.
Gaara tucks his head further into your arm somehow, enough that the sound of his voice is muffled and you have to strain your ears slightly to hear him. “Nightmare,” he tells you, voice trained into a flat, even tone, though the tight grip his fingers have on your side betrays how he truly feels about this; he is frightened.
This just won’t stand, will it? Not if you can help it. You turn to him slightly, nuzzling your nose into his impossibly soft hair, “Did ya fall asleep on the couch again, babe? I missed you while you were gone."
Silence fills the room, yet if you strain your ears, you're sure you'd hear the sound of his pulse thrumming just beneath his skin like a thousand frightened animals taking flight. His grip pulls you tightly, chest pressed to chest as he takes in the scent on your neck. Once he told you how comforting your smell was, like coming home to something warm. It reminds him that he can tell you anything and he'll be okay, that you will listen and understand how he feels. Lips press against your throat in a reassuring kiss for a moment, but it doesn't seem to progress past this like it typically does.
You're totally fine with that; intimacy is lovely and you enjoy nights when Gaara writhes under your hands and some nights, you under his. However, tonight seems to be about just feeling okay again. You love those moments when he gives his suffering over to you so he can have his burden borne by someone else for a change. His knees curl up, making way between your legs until his limbs tangle with yours and the blanket in a nest of protection and comfort. A sigh of relief passes between the two of you, Gaara's hands finally unclasp their frightful grip, though his palms remain seated on your skin.
His enchanting blue-green eyes search your face, looking for something like an answer to a question he seems afraid to ask. "You were killed," his voice cuts through the stillness of air, sudden and chilling, "in my dream, I mean. Can… can you just一"
"I'm okay," you whisper to him, interrupting the train of thought so he does not wind himself into a panicked spiral. "Gaara, I'm not going anywhere, okay? I wouldn't let that happen."
His head tucks back into the fabric of your shirt, "You don't know that…"
"That's the truth, okay? I mean it. I wouldn't let anyone hurt me or you." Another kiss is pressed to the top of his head and he tilts toward you even more, as if coming closer will make the action more intense. In response to his physical need, you stroke his cheek gently until he starts to decompress even more.
The room falls into tranquil silence once again save for the sound of fabric shifting as he moves up until his forehead is pressed to yours. You dart forward and kiss the tip of his nose, a gentle gesture to remind him that you love him even though you know he knows already. You really wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, you'd sooner die than let anyone lay a finger on your favorite person. Gaara seems to understand since he leans in a little more and presses tender, loving lips to your own, lingering for a while as he seems to ready himself to say something to you.
"I love you," he mumbles to your lips, eyes watching yours from this close. There's so much adoration and near reverence on his face, like you're the only person left in the universe at the end of time. It's so nice to be loved by him.
You pull him close again, linking your fingers with his after you find his hands in the mess of limbs and kisses the two of you have become. "I love you, Gaara. You're so important to me and I'd never let anyone hurt you or hurt me. Do you trust me?"
He doesn't hesitate, "I do," and you know he really does. It took him years to finally feel okay enough to even let down his emotional guard for you. You'd never do anything to betray that trust he's worked so hard on putting into you.
"Then know that I won't ever let anything happen to you," you kiss his forehead, feeling how he's trembling slightly under your touch as he listens to your words. "I'll always be here to keep you safe. Always."
Breath catches in his throat, tight and watery under you. Does he feel overwhelmed? A part of you almost wishes so, for his face when you tell him how much you care for him is the most beautiful thing you have ever had the grace to see. Warm arms close around you like a cradle of safety and warmth and comfort and love above all else. Gaara's soft lips catch the line of your jaw and he presses gentle, aching kisses along the length of it. Fingers squeeze the arms of your sleeves as he pulls you even somehow even closer than before. Chest to chest, heart to heart, he melts for your affection.
"Feeling better?" you ask, decidedly ignoring the hitch of your own breath in your throat when his eyes find yours in the darkness. He looks like an alabaster angel but cheeks flushed a rosy pink, and perfect blue-green ocean eyes searching your face. Admiration rolls off of him in tangible, almost palpable waves as if he hopes to pull you into the whirlpool of his heart, and you go willingly into the depths.
Gaara watches you through twinkling, half-moon eyes, "Yes," and then they fall closed once more. Safety. Comfort. Home.
He grows quiet once again and this time, with his pulse thrumming under your hands, you feel it when he lets himself be eased into a restful slumber. It is time to let dreams be dreams and nightmares become a foggy, forgotten memory like pressed petals of plucked primroses between pages of ancient tomes. Eyes flutter closed, this time those belonging to you. It is safe. You are safe. Gaara is safe. You are loved and things will be alright.