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Ichigo sat up in his bed, his feet tangled in the sheets, his forehead beaded with sweat. His breath was coming out in shallow pants; the iron band of panic still pressed tight in his chest. He rubbed his eyes and tried his best to rein in the wild fear coiling in the pit of his stomach.
Usually when he woke from a nightmare, he might have tried to tell himself that it had just been a bad dream – but this time he couldn’t do that in good conscience since it had all been very real. The blood and chaos were forever seared into his mind, the white sterile walls he had stared and the feel of the hard wooden chair under him. He remembered pacing along the corridor, the dread and helplessness twisting in his gut, the endless waiting fraying his mind.
Sighing, he lowered himself back onto the mattress and turned to his side, to look at the woman sleeping next to him, curled up under the blankets, her face towards him.
His fingers hesitated for a moment, before they gently brushed aside the errant stand of hair that had fallen over her eyes. He looked down at her, that peaceful face, the steady rise and fall of her chest. Moonlight was streaming in through the window and bathing her pale skin, lending it an almost ethereal glow.
His hand trembled a little, and his fingers darted out again, running up the length of her arm, ghosting over her cheek. Feeling her soft, warm skin was the only way he had to reassure himself that she was really there, that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
She shifted, leaning into his touch, and then her dark lashes fluttered and her deep violet eyes opened.
He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.
“Ichigo?” she asked, her puzzled voice softened by sleep.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Her eyes were clearing, they narrowed as they met his gaze.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“I had a nightmare, that you were… That I was back in the emergency room and I just–”
“It’s been a month, Ichigo,” she cut in, her voice firm and gentle. She looked at him, and her hand travelled up to smooth down the creases on his brow. “I’m fine. The surgery was successful and the doctors say I will make a full recovery.”
“I know,” he said, but the haunted look didn’t leave his brown eyes, the irrational fear still lurked in the dark corners of his mind.
As usual, she seemed to understand even though he had not voiced his feelings. She wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed his lips softly.
“Go to sleep,” she breathed, running her hand through his untamed orange hair. Her petite body easily moulded against his as she pressed against him. “I’m here.”
Ichigo wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He buried his nose in her hair and let his eyes slide shut again.