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She was wearing a dress and she hated it, the skirt kept catching on her legs.
She was with Teia though, which made it bearable. Teia was fun, and dangerous, and everything that Matteo wanted to be some days.
But then she saw him, and even worse, she smelled him. The scent of his cologne in her nose making her stomach sick. Her hand reached for Teia’s sleeve, to get her attention, but suddenly she was gone. Little Matteo was alone on the street and the man was staring at her. He knew her, and when she turned to run she found herself cornered in an alley. No windows to climb into, no pipes to shimmy, just smooth hard walls. His heavy footsteps came to a stop behind her, and before she could turn around to defend herself, his gloved fingers were around her neck.
This was it. Her borrowed time was up. Her lungs screamed and her fingers bled as she fought to get free, but everything was growing dark and the quiet peace of surrender was too tempting…
Matteo woke up covered in a cold sweat, gasping for air, and tangled in the sheets. Panic still had its hold on her and she was fighting to get free before she could even really think about it. It was the soft “oof” sound of alarm that Neve made that finally brought her to herself, as she realized she'd accidentally sent her lover off the other side of their bed. Guilt flooded her chest, simultaneously as the urge to feel and hide roared to life.
“Trouble?” Neve asked with sleepy concern as she used the side of the bed to pull herself up into a sitting position.
When all Matteo did in reply was to stare at her in return, her eyes glinting slightly as they reflected the moonlight that streamed in through the window, Neve woke up the rest of the way.
“Was it one of those damn spiders in the bed again? I thought we got rid of the last of them, but those fuckers somehow always find a way to come back… Matt?” Neve asked as she climbed back into the bed, pausing on her knees as she realized Matteo still hadn't moved.
Neve moved herself closer, and gently reached out to touch Matteo’s arm. In response, Matteo’s head snapped up, her eyes suddenly locked on Neve's concerned face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Neve beat her to it, asking, “Is this the part where you tell me you're ‘fine’, Trouble? Because you're literally shaking hard enough to make your hair move.”
Matteo's open mouth closed abruptly and audibly, as she stared at Neve's beautiful face and tried to figure out how to make up for her fuck up.
After a minute, Matteo manages to softly say, “I'm sorry.”
“What? Why? For knocking me out of the bed? Please!” Neve replied, her hand still resting on Matteo's arm, as she studied her shadowed face in the dark. When Matteo didn't reply with one of her typical self-deprecating lines or an attempt to change the subject, Neve realized she'd have to push.
“Matteo, you need to talk about it. Bottling it up? Bad idea. And trust me, I would know. You're the one who's gotten me to open up about things. Let me do the same for you, please?”
It was the please that did it, that shook Matteo into finally being able to speak.
“Nightmare about one of the assassins who killed my mother. Just a bad dream, I'll be fine. Fucker is dead, so I'm not actually in any danger.”
Neve frowned, because while it was good Matt was talking, her tone was flat and cool, which was not like her at all. She was still stuck, and Neve was going to have to push harder to get her loose.
“Dead or not, doesn't matter. A regular bad dream doesn't make someone react like that, Trouble. You need to air it out, so it doesn't have power over you anymore.” Neve told her, letting a little icy certainty flavor the words, so Matt couldn't brush them off.
“I can't talk about it. I don't want to talk about it. It's the past, and this is now. Let it be, Neve. I'm sorry about the bed, I'll fix it.” Matteo said in a rush, before she shifted and moved to get up.
But Neve’s hand was still on her arm and she held on to the other woman, stopping her from getting up.
“Can't and don't are different things. I don't care about the bed, Trouble. I care about you.”
Matteo sniffled, the sound loud in the dark room. Then she sucked in air and made a quiet sound of pained grief that broke Neve's heart. She was moving before she could even really think about it. Her arms wrapping around the silver haired woman and pulling her close. Matteo melted into Neve, too tired to fight, and not really wanting to, because Neve was safe.
Matteo cried silent tears, big messy awful tears, from sorrows long buried that had been dormant for years. And Neve just held her and occasionally placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, because that felt like the right thing to do. Time slipped by and Matteo eventually grew heavy and still, forcing Neve to realize she'd actually cried herself to sleep in her arms. A sigh escaped her chest, and then Neve just slowly lowered herself back down onto the bed, while never letting go of the woman she loved. As soon as they were both lying down, Matt curled into Neve, like some sort of giant cat. And that mental image made Neve smile as her eyes closed. She'd let them rest, and then, after breakfast, it would be time to talk.