Whimpering.
I still, frowning into the darkness.
And there it is again. Soft, quiet … crying.
I get out of bed, wiping the grogginess from my eyes as I cross the room and open my door. I creep tentatively across the hall toward Cora’s room, listening intently. And as I suspected, the noise must be her.
I hesitate, wondering if it’s simply best if I leave her alone. But a sudden sharp cry from behind the door has my hand raising to knock gently against the wood. “Cora?” I call quietly.
She doesn’t respond, but the quiet whimpering continues.
“Cora?” I call again.
Something that sounds more like a scream than a cry wafts through the door, and suddenly I’m opening it, stepping into the dark room. My eyes land on her immediately, thrashing under the covers as she babbles incoherently.
And then it hits me. She’s dreaming. The nightmares she talked about. This must be one of them.
“Cora!” I call as gently as I can, moving to the side of the bed and grasping her shoulders. She struggles against me, and I try my hardest to wake her without scaring her. “Cora, wake up,” I plead.
She whimpers again, and even though logically, I know she’s safe—she’s right here, tucked into bed, right next to me—something in my chest clenches painfully. “Cora!” My fingers dig into the flesh of her upper arms, shaking her gently.
She gasps, and her eyes open. She looks around, and then her gaze lands on mine in the dark. Grief and fear slowly subside into confusion, then understanding.
“Theo?” she breathes.
“You were dreaming,” I whisper, my hands instinctively rubbing her arms.
She nods, swallows, and sits up stiffly. She’s quiet, her eyes darting around the room, seemingly trying to shake off the dream that probably felt all too real. There are tears staining her cheeks, and the oversized t-shirt she was sleeping in is twisted and tangled around her torso.
My hands drop from her shoulders, but then she’s reaching for me, her arms around my neck, her face buried in my chest as she takes in a shuddering breath. Immediately, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tightly against me. I can feel the wetness of her tears soaking through my thin t-shirt, but I don’t care. I rock her gently back and forth, squeezing her tight and shutting my eyes. “You’re okay, Cora,” I whisper. “It was just a dream.”
She nods into my chest with another shuddering breath.
And suddenly it hits me how often these dreams must plague her. And that she lived in that cabin on the ranch all alone. There was never anyone there to calm her back to sleep, not even a roommate to talk to. I wonder if she spent nights wandering down to the mess hall to make herself a cup of tea. All alone.
I wish I could have been there.
After a long moment, Cora pulls back, wiping her face.
“You feeling better?” I ask quietly.
She nods.
It feels wrong to leave her here, but I’m also becoming acutely aware of how I just barged into her space. This is her room, her bed, and she’s wearing nothing but a t-shirt. I move to stand, clearing my throat. “Can I get you anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head, wrapping her arms tightly around her body.
Fuck, she looks so small. And scared.
I turn, but her voice stops me.
“Theo?”
I look back to her.
“Can you … stay?”
A mixture of emotions hit me so hard I almost fall over. Shock, nerves, but above all—relief. “Yes,” I breathe.
