Her breathing is getting faster, panicked. She's hyperventilating.
Fuck.
I grab her shoulders and shake her gently.
"Isabella. Wake up. You're safe. Wake up."
Her eyes fly open.
Wild. Unfocused. She's looking at me but not seeing me, seeing whatever was in that nightmare, probably seeing that basement nine years ago.
"No—"
"It's me. It's Enzo. You're safe."
I keep my voice low. Steady.
She blinks. Once. Twice. Her eyes start to focus, seeing me instead of whatever monster was in her dream.
"E-Enzo?"
"Yeah. It's me, baby."
She's shaking, her whole body trembling under my hands, sweat on her forehead, her breath coming in short gasps.
"I was—there was?—"
"A nightmare. You were just having a nightmare, you’re fine now."
"The basement." Her voice cracks. "I was back in the basement." She stops, squeezes her eyes shut. "He was there. He was there to..."
She can't finish but I know what she means. Whether to keep her alive. Whether she was worth the trouble.
"You're not there. You're here. At the cabin. You're safe, look at me, I’m right here with you."
She opens her eyes and looks at me. Then she starts to cry.
Not the silent tears from earlier. Real crying. Her face crumpling, her breath hitching, sobs that shake her entire frame.
I should let go, should stand up, should leave her to cry alone.
But she's grabbing my shirt, fisting her hands in the fabric, pulling herself closer.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just?—"
"Don't apologize."
"I can't stop seeing it. I close my eyes and I'm back there. I can smell it. The mold. The rust. I can hear his voice, that cold voice."
Her face is pressed against my chest now, crying into my shirt, her whole body shaking with sobs.
My arms move on their own, wrapping around her, pulling her closer.
This is a mistake. I know it's a mistake. But I can't make myself let go.
"You're safe. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."
She cries harder like the words broke something loose.
