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The night was heavy with the echoes of darkness, and Laura found herself ensnared in the relentless grip of a haunting nightmare. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, matting her tangled hair as she was transported back in time, to the unforgiving deserts of war-torn Iraq, a place she had long yearned to forget.
In her dream, a sandstorm raged, obscuring the once-clear sky, and the acrid scent of burning debris mingled with the metallic tinge of fear. The distant reports of gunfire filled her ears, intermingled with the shouts of soldiers and the heart-wrenching cries of civilians ensnared in the crossfire. Her heart pounded as she staggered through the labyrinthine, rubble-strewn streets, the world's chaos enveloping her senses.
Amid the turmoil, a voice emerged from the depths of her dream, initially faint, like a whisper carried on the winds of a relentless sandstorm.
"Laura."
The gunfire intensified, and the blistering heat from the explosion seared her skin. She could feel the gritty sand on her tongue, like the earth itself rebelling against the violence that had consumed it.
"Laura—honey."
The voice grew stronger, an anchor in the tempest, drawing her back from the precipice of the nightmare. She could feel her own blood, slick and hot, coursing down her face, down her neck, the sensation causing her stomach to churn in revulsion.
"Baby—wake up!"
Laura gasped, suddenly jolting awake, her body launching into a sitting position, her heart still racing, and her body drenched in sweat.
Laura gasped for breath, ripping herself from the clutches of the nightmare. Her chest heaved, and her breath came out in ragged, uneven bursts as she struggled to regain her composure.
Hands were on her, soothing circles drawn upon her trembling shoulder and quaking arms.
Then, a warm body pressed against her, offering solace, grounding her in the realm of the living. The voice, the same voice that had called out to her in her dream, now murmured words directly into her ear, a lifeline in the dark.
"Breath."
The voice was calm, unwavering, a steadying presence amidst the turmoil of her mind.
"I've got you."
The assurance in those words wrapped around her like a protective shield.
"You're safe."
Laura clung to those words, allowing them to wash away the remnants of the nightmare that still clung to her.
"Just breathe—baby."
She inhaled deeply, her racing heart slowly finding its rhythm, the terror receding like a retreating tide.
"That's it," the voice whispered, soft and reassuring, like a gentle breeze on a scorching day. It peppered the side of her head with tender kisses, each one a soothing balm to her wounded soul.
Those hands, which had been her lifeline, now came up to tangle themselves in Laura's hair, their fingers gentle but insistent. They guided Laura's head forward, until her face was pressed against the warm, living skin, and Laura could hear the sound of a heartbeat that wasn't her own. It beat against the shell of her ear, a rhythmic reminder of life, of the present, dispelling the echoes of her haunting past.
Laura continued to listen to that steady heartbeat, her breath gradually evening out in harmony with the steady rise and fall of the chest she was tucked into. The hands continued to comb through her hair, soothing her shattered nerves.
Before long, she felt herself becoming steady once more, and with newfound strength, she gently pulled back from the embrace to finally see the person who had brought her back from the brink of her nightmare.
In the dim light of her bedroom, sleep-tousled blonde hair framed the face of Bradley Jackson as she sat beside Laura, her blue eyes practically glowing in the darkness, shimmering with concern and care.
Bradley's voice broke the silence, filled with deep affection and worry.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?"
Tears welled up in Laura's eyes, not born of the lingering fear from her nightmare but rather from the profound relief of being pulled back from its terrifying grasp. She nodded, her voice barely rising above a whisper, the words escaping her lips like a heavy burden, as if the nightmare still clung to her insides, tainting her voice.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice heavy. She glanced up at Bradley, then quickly averted her eyes, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, hating that Bradley had to witness her like this. "Sorry about that. I haven't had a night terror in years."
Bradley's hands reached out to cup Laura's face, gently guiding her gaze back to her own.
"You don't have to apologize for anything," Bradley said softly but with a fierce determination in her eyes.
Laura let out a shaky breath, fighting back tears, her heart aching as Bradley's thumb tenderly caressed her cheekbone.
"Do you need anything?" Bradley asked with concern. "Let me go get you some water."
Bradley started to rise from the bed, but Laura's hands snapped out, catching her wrist.
"No," Laura pleaded, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Don't leave me."
The urgency in her voice stopped Bradley in her tracks. She looked into Laura's eyes, her own face contorting with compassion.
"Oh, sweetheart," Bradley said, her heart aching, as she swiftly moved forward to wrap her arms around Laura. "I won't go anywhere, okay?" Her hands were tender and reassuring as she held Laura close. "I'm right here—I've got you."
Bradley gently guided them both into a laying position, carefully pulling Laura closer, and placing Laura's head on her chest. With great tenderness, she enfolded Laura in her arms, cradling her close. One arm encircled Laura's body, holding her protectively, while the other hand began to work its way through Laura's hair, fingers moving in soothing patterns.
In Bradley's loving embrace, Laura felt an overwhelming sense of safety, her girlfriend's heartbeat a steady rhythm against the shell of her ear. They lay like that for what felt like an eternity, time seeming to stand still.
Minutes, hours—it was impossible to tell. It was long enough for the gentle pull of sleep to encroach upon the corners of Laura's mind. She let out a contented yawn, surrendering to the drowsy embrace of slumber.
"I love you," Laura murmured sleepily, the words slipping from her lips as sleep began to claim her once more.
She was only barely aware of her own words, vaguely registering the sharp intake of breath beneath her head or the momentary pause in the hand that caressed her hair. But then the soothing stroking resumed, reassuring and gentle.
As she slipped into the welcoming arms of sleep, she felt a kiss on her forehead as the words "I love you, too" echoed softly in her dreams.