Elijah woke with a jolt.
A thin sheen of sweat clung to his temples, sliding down to the hollow of his throat.
He gazed at the familiar ceiling of his home through blurry vision.
"Elijah? Hey, are you okay?" Alexei's voice pulled the priestling through the dreamy haze.
He was crouched beside him, hands still gripping Elijah's shoulders, shaking him just hard enough that the thin duvet had slipped to the floor.
Worry pulled at the corners of his mouth, softening his otherwise shameless grin.
"What's gotten into you? You were thrashing in your sleep."
Elijah exhaled audibly.
Because Elijah was lying on the sofa with Alexei leaning over him, the boy's face was mostly shadowed.
Yet Elijah's gaze lingered on the uneasy blue eyes peering down at him.
Even in the dimness, he could easily see all the emotions churning inside Alexei.
Worry, perhaps even fear.
If it had been Aaron standing there, he would've smiled that sharp, knowing smile.
