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Umiri woke to the sound of thunder. A storm had moved in at some point during the night, and sheets of rain pelted the window. She reached over to her nightstand and tapped her phone, the soft light illuminating her face. 2:34 AM. Ugh.
Umiri rolled over, grumbling to herself about the rudeness of nature for disturbing her slumber, and reached into the darkness for the small form she expected beside her. Panic flickered when her hand met only cool sheets—then relief washed over her as her fingertips brushed silky hair. She exhaled a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Although Mutsumi seemed to have reached a delicate balance with the alters within her, Mortis still appeared when it suited her—usually to stir trouble. Mutsumi had begun to find peace, and with it, Mortis was called on less and less. That didn’t sit well with the alter, who grew restless and surfaced in unpredictable ways.
Just last week, Umiri had woken to an empty bed and found Mortis in the kitchen inhaling ice cream at three in the morning. A tug-of-war over a carton of mint chocolate chip hadn’t been what she envisioned when she invited her girlfriend to sleep over.
Shaking her head at the memory, Umiri slid closer, snuggling against Mutsumi’s back, warmth blooming at the familiar shape of her. She reached to brush a stray lock from her face—only to pause. Her fingertips came away damp.
For a heartbeat she thought she was imagining things. But then she saw it: the glint of wetness clinging to Mutsumi’s lashes, a silent trail down her cheek.
Protective fire surged through her chest. Umiri propped herself up on an elbow and gently tugged Mutsumi onto her back. Tear-filled gold met her worried turquoise, and her heart clenched. She wasted no time, wrapping the smaller girl tight in her arms.
“I’m right here, Mutsumi. You’re safe.”
Mutsumi gave no reply, only burrowed into her neck, seeking the comfort it offered. Hot tears soaked Umiri’s skin, each one twisting something deep inside her. She stroked slow circles across Mutsumi’s back, a physical reminder that she wasn’t alone.
In these situations, patience was key. Umiri had learned early on that Mutsumi would share her feelings when she was ready, and only then. Push too much and she would retreat into herself. If she retreated too far, Mortis would take over. And so Umiri waited, content to play the role of a quiet safe haven until Mutsumi was ready.
Eventually, a whisper broke the silence, quiet and shaky.
“I had a bad dream.”
Umiri placed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Mutsumi was quiet for a moment, debating whether she did or not. “No… it’ll only hurt more if I do. Just keep me here, please.”
The wounds on Mutsumi’s heart and soul ran deep, and Umiri knew that it would take a long time for them to heal. Whatever this dream entailed had been enough to tear some of those wounds open again, and it was up to Umiri to be the balm Mutsumi needed to ease the pain.
She gave Mutsumi a gentle squeeze in response before beginning to thread fingers through her hair. This earned her a soft sound of pleasure that warmed her heart. The rain continued its steady drumbeat against the window.
A short while later, Mutsumi’s breathing had steadied and slowed, her body relaxing as sleep took hold of her again. They were both free tomorrow, and Umiri was already making a mental schedule of activities that would be sure to make Mutsumi’s day.
She was in the middle of deciding between a trip to the local gardening supply store or Mutsumi’s favorite music shop when sleep came for her as well.
The storm had finally passed, leaving only stillness—and the steady comfort of each other’s arms.