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You heard the bedroom door open and frantically wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks, turning around quickly and slipping out of the bathroom. The bedroom was still dark, save for the moonlight streaming in from the sheer curtains. Misty stood just inside the doorway, watching you approach her.
She stood still as you crossed the room and threw yourself into her arms, nestling your face into the crook of her neck.
“Are you okay?” she asked into your hair.
“Of course.” You felt her kiss your head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’ve been crying.”
“I haven’t.”
“Darlin.” You looked up at her. “I can tell.”
You squirmed out of her arms and walked away and around the bed. As you hurriedly changed into your pajamas, you could feel Misty staring at you. You refused to look at her.
Even when you were both in bed, you didn’t even glance her way. You stayed facing away from her, face half-pressed into the pillow. If she could tell you were crying from a half-second look at your face, what else could she tell? What else were you unknowingly burdening her with?
After what felt like hours had passed, when you were certain Misty was asleep, you felt your body swell with emotion. Tears streamed freely now, and you felt yourself slipping farther and farther into the depths of your own thoughts.
It was the same every night. In the darkness-cloaked room you would let everything go, all your insecurities and your sadness, in hopes that they wouldn’t return the next day. They always did.
Somehow you found comfort in how routine it was. How this… depressed, pitiful expression of your hurt was the only thing you could truly depend on. You wanted so badly to feel secure in something else, but you couldn’t. Not even with Misty. She might leave if you told her how deeply sad you were. It was just you and your depression.
Tonight, though, went differently. Your tears, your thoughts, were interrupted by a gentle hand on your back. Five fingers pressing into your skin through your shirt suddenly grounded you.
“Baby?” Misty said, barely louder than a whisper. You didn’t move. “Would you come here?” You shifted silently towards her, pressing your back into her front. “What’s wrong, my love?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly. “It’s okay.”
“You don’t have to tell me, but can you let me hold you?”
You nodded, leaning back into Misty, letting her body cradle yours.
For the first night in weeks, your tears slowed before you fell asleep. You allowed yourself to be held, allowed yourself to be vulnerable even though it scared you more than anything.
Misty’s breath was lulling you into a sleep. The feeling of her heartbeat through her skin was comforting you, making you feel safer than you had in a long time.
“Pumpkin?” You heard from above you.
“Hm?” Was all you could manage in your half-asleep state.
“I’ll be here for you no matter what, you know that?” She pulled you closer, wrapping you even more in her arms. “I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
You could only nod. You were drifting closer and closer to sleep with each passing second.
Just before your eyes slipped closed, before you completely fell asleep, you felt Misty kiss your head and whisper a quiet “I love you” into your hair. Even though you were still sad, still desperately seeking a light, you were finally comfortable here. Even though you had doubts, even though you were still convinced that Misty would leave you, you knew they were irrational. You could finally put some of those worries to rest.