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You laid awake for hours. Turning over in bed didn’t help. Sipping water didn’t help and neither did counting sheep (though did that really work for anyone?).
Giving up, you tossed the covers aside and climbed out of bed to open your curtains. The moon greeted you high in the sky.
Lost in thought, you didn’t pay much attention to a slight shift in the air behind you.
“I don’t remember falling asleep.”
“You didn’t,” Morpheus said as you slowly turned to face him. He was dressed in black jeans and a t-shirt.
“So, you’re in the Waking world? That makes a change.”
He didn’t respond and tilted his head, taking you in silently like he was searching for something. Usually, when he saw you again for the first time after being seperated, he’d wrap you in his arms and kiss your cheek. Tonight, he remained several steps away. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
You crossed your arms. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”
“You’re irritable. Would you rather I leave?”
“No,” you said hastily, stepping forward, that was the last thing you wanted. You should have known he’d pick up on your mood. That was why he’d made no attempt to approach you. “Stay. I’m sorry. I’ll try to rein it in, it’s just… I’m tired and my mind is obsessing over past memories. Things I did that I regret. I know I can’t go back and change anything, and I’m exhausted trying to convince myself of that.”
You sighed. “Great; now I’m whining.”
You turned your back on Morpheus and flopped onto the bed. Resting your elbows on your knees, you pressed the balls of your palms into your eyes. Sometimes it helped you block things out, but a second later, Morpheus was in front of you, pulling your hands away.
“Do you know why this is happening?” he asked gently, while rubbing soothing circles on your wrists. When you didn’t answer straight away, he added, “You can tell me anything.”
You knew you could. Every time you had a problem he offered you advice, or, when you needed it, he would give himself to you completely as a way of distracting you. Whenever you could help him, you returned the favour.
Despite this, however, you hoped you didn’t regret telling him what you thought was the cause of your overactive, anxious mind. “I think it has something to do with my period starting next week.”
He nodded to himself, completely accepting and not repulsed in the slightest which loosened the knot in your stomach because you’d known some people in the past who hadn’t reacted well to any discussions on menstruation.
Your throat started to burn. It was a struggle to get your next words out so you whispered them instead. “I just want it to stop.”
He pulled your hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss on your knuckles, trying to soothe your troubles away. “Is there anything you’d like me to do for you?”
“Will you lay down with me?”
“Of course.” He let go of you and you laid back on your bed while Morpheus removed his shoes. He joined you afterwards, and encouraged you to roll on your side so that you rested your head on his chest. He held you against him, one of his hands on your back while the other stroked your head in a way that made you feel safe and loved.
“Do you want to tell me about your thoughts?” he said.
“Not right now, if that’s okay. I just want to stay like this and forget about everything.”
“Very well.” He rubbed your back and you melted into him. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He continued his soothing motions until your eyes grew heavy.
“‘m tired,” you mumbled. “Is that your doing?”
“Perhaps,” he said and you heard the smile in his voice. “You may sleep now, if you’d like to.”
You buried your fingers in his top to keep him close and noticed how lethargic your body had become. “Don’t go,” you said.
“I’ll stay for as long as you want me.”
“Then you’ll stay with me forever.”
Just before you fell asleep you heard him say, “Forever sounds good to me.”