Then I’m suddenly reminded of how I get engulfed with nightmares of Mom’s death as soon as I fall asleep. Hesitantly, I call to him, “Hey, Adrian?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you hold my hand the entire night?” My voice comes out as a quiet whisper.
There’s a pause. I’m almost afraid to meet his eyes.
Heartbeat picking up faster, his fingers interweave with mine and lace them together. I turn almost reflexively and I’m faced with his eyes—burning so green that it’s hard to look away. And for a second—one second, there is this feeling that flits in my chest, making my breath catch.
Then his eyes close and I blink slowly—feeling as I’m in a dream-like trance. Then mine slide close too after a while of memorizing this moment, this moment of silent peacefulness.
The gentle pressure of his hand holding mine coaxes me into sleep.
This time, there’s only a soothing blankness. And we sleep just like that; backs curved together, my head folded in his chest.
As we hold hands, I fall into the awaiting darkness.
— L. Jayne
#distress #heartbreaking #death
