Nyctophilia

I crept through the dark, soft and slow, inching further towards the living room. For whatever reason, it seemed Roy had a knack for knowing I was up, no matter what time of night it was. He seemed to have some sixth sense when it came to me; I couldn't explain it. He just seemed to see through everything about me, and I definitely did not want to face him tonight. Definitely not tonight.

And I didn't want to wake anyone else up, either. I'd had the dream again, that nightmare which was a tell tale sign of the winter months; a personal hell that haunted me constantly. The truth always lingered in my mind, mixed with the guilt and the shame, but it could never be revealed to anyone. It was kept at bay by fear, by the memory... Sealed with blood. It was always under the surface, always pushing at my mind...

Slowly driving me crazy.

Thankfully, I had woken up quickly, so, I at least had a small measure of peace there... But nothing else. My heart ached: tears streamed silently as I tried to hold them in.

And still I crept through the darkness, trying not to make a sound. I didn't even let out a breath of relief as I reached the end of the hallway and saw that the living room and kitchen were dark. Very dark.

Which meant Roy wasn't up. Turning the corner, my feet met the carpet, and I moved to go around the coffee table to get to the couch...

And yelped as I crashed my pinky toe right into the edge. My hand flew to my mouth and I threw curses left in right in my mind, hoping like hell no one had heard me. Gritting my teeth till the pain subsided, I let out an annoyed sigh.

"Damn, that hu-" I nearly jumped out of my skin as my annoyed whisper was cut off, a hand covering my mouth. My heart leaped into my chest and instinct kicked in. I threw back an elbow to fight back even as an arm wrapped around my waist.

"Calm down." Immediately, I complied, recognizing the voice. Even at a whisper, it still held its deep sound and intensity. Panting, I reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling it from my face. Far less annoyed and angry than I should've been, I turned around in Roy's arms and sent him a glare, though he couldn't really see it.

"You scared the hell out of me, why are you up?"

"Why are you up," he countered. It was in that second that I remembered why I'd been creeping through the dark in the first place, and all the emotions that came with it: fear, guilt, agony. All of it.

My eyes were immediately glued to the floor, even though a dim sliver of moonlight was all the light we had to see with.

"Couldn't sleep," I replied shortly, trying to pull away from him. He was stronger than me, though, and gently pulled me back to his chest. He wasn't about to let me go anywhere.

"Ana, I know its more than that," he replied quietly, softly.

"It's nothing, Roy-" my voice cracked and I cringed internally. Clearing my throat to hide my weakness, I quickly added, "don't worry about it." I tried to pull away from him again, feeling like I was under a microscope and all I wanted to do was crawl under a rock.

But Roy didn't let go. He only tightened his grip.

"What's wrong, Analii?" he questioned again, that calm, soft tone never leaving his voice. I didn't reply. Just stood there in silence, eyes down.

"Ana, look at me." He reached up, fingertips pressing lightly into my jaw in an attempt to tilt my chin up, but I just turned away from him, glaring into the dark.

"It was just a bad dream, Roy. That's all. Now, would you let go?" My tone was sharp, harsher than I'd intended. It didn't faze Roy.

And he didn't let go, either.

He just stood in silence, holding on to me. Just barely, even with being so close to him, he shifted his weight and I almost didn't notice.

"Was it that nightmare?" I looked up at him, then, and was met with his beautiful brown eyes. Like Mark's, they reminded me of Elias', but there was something more in them, something that I could never really place. Begrudgingly, I nodded my answer.

He was thoughtful again before speaking. Roy knew even less about this one nightmare than Thomas did, if that was even possible. All he knew was that I always had it in the winter, and that when I did, it wasn't a pretty sight. Thomas at least had a clue of what it was about, but knew nothing of what had happened that night.

Other than I'd had the shit kicked out of me.

Above all though, Roy certainly knew not to pry about it. But that didn't stop him from caring.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I shook my head slowly as the emotions welled up again, along with tears, and I tried my damn hardest to force them back down. I refused to lose my shit now and start crying in front of Roy. Taking a deep breath, I turned my eyes downcast again, resting my forehead on Roy's chest.

Letting out a sigh, the singer didn't say anything more. He didn't have to.

Instead, he just pulled me even closer, into a hug.

And he didn't let go.

And he never answered why he was up so late, either.