The moment her fingers made contact with his skin, Erion screamed—raw, visceral—pulling his hand away in a sharp, instinctive motion.
It was a reflex, like an animal reacting to sudden danger.
A defense mechanism.
No. Don't think of it like that. She caught herself.
Pain jolted through her wrist, but she barely noticed. He was still shaking, gasping, his body taut with exhaustion.
The chain clinked as his hand dropped back to the side of the bed. The sound was hollow, like a broken bell. Her eyes trailed to his drenched face.
What do you see now, Evah? The cold-blooded killer you once feared? She questioned herself.
"No!"
Erion's sudden shout startled her. His chained hand pulled so hard it shifted the nightstand. She instinctively stepped back.
"Stop! Don't kill them!" he screamed again, curling into himself, covering his ears.
Evah just stood there, frozen—watching, helpless—as the weight of it all sank in. Once again, the world reminded her just how powerless she truly was.
Her tears refused to fall, not because the pain wasn't real, but because her mind couldn't fully grasp the devastation unraveling before her.
It was too much. Too raw.
But one thing she did understand, deep in her chest, was that something had cracked—
A new kind of ache had carved its way into her heart.
A hollow pain that didn't even belong to her…
Yet it settled there anyway.
Her gaze fell to the raw skin around his wrists, the deep red marks from the chains. Why didn't I see it before?
The answers came to her in fleeting images—
Erion, always dressed differently, yet every outfit shared one thing in common: they all covered his arms.
Jackets. Long Coats. His uniforms.
Layers not for fashion, but to hide what no one was meant to see.
The key lay on the bedside table. She stared at it, trembling.
I should free him...
but I can't.
I don't know how to help him. Not like this.
Her breathing turned shallow. Her hands shook.
I need to do something.
She reached for his hand again, knowing he'd try to resist. This time, she clasped it with both of hers, holding on tight.
Come on now, I should be able to beat you when you're asleep, she thought with a fragile smile.
Erion struggled at first, but the fight was fading. His body was too exhausted.
Evah interlaced her fingers with his, locking them in place with every ounce of strength she had.
Calm down… Please… please…
Her eyes squeezed shut. His screams grew weaker. His body stilled. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks, but she didn't care.
All her strength was in her grip.
Please, Erion.
"Erion…" she whispered, opening her eyes. "It's okay now. I'll stand guard this time. Just sleep."
She remembered all the nights she had slept peacefully, comforted by the thought that Erion was there to protect her.
She had always feared him. Misjudged him. But now she saw the truth—and it tore her apart.
His breathing slowed. Like he heard her, but she knows he didn't.
The room fell quiet.
No more screams.
Only silence.
Only sleep.
Evah kept holding his hand, watching him. For once, he looked at peace.
I hope you're dreaming of something good.
Note:
Nightmare Disorder is a condition in which individuals experience frequent, vivid dreams that induce intense anxiety, fear, or other negative emotions. These nightmares often involve scenarios where the individual is in danger and attempting to escape.
Upon awakening, the person can clearly and easily recall the content of the nightmare. Symptoms may include excessive sweating (diaphoresis), rapid heartbeat (tachycardia), and rapid breathing (tachypnea).
In some cases, physical activities such as sleep talking or sleepwalking may also occur, especially during periods of emotional stress or disrupted sleep.