Nyctophilia

Ana was asleep.

She was finally, completely, blessedly asleep. She'd resisted at first; I'd silently watched as she'd fought to keep her eyes open, and watched as her determination gave out to the melody I'd started humming, hoping to coax her into slumber.

I knew she was exhausted, that she hadn't had maybe three hours of sleep in what seemed as many days. It didn't take long for her to drop deep into the void of unconciousness. Snuggled into my side at first, she'd somehow managed to move even closer -not that I had minded- and somehow we had both ended up completely stretched out on the couch, tucked under layers of blankets, bathed in the soft glow of the fire. Ana had draped herself over me like a content cat; her head was on my chest and one hand laid across my lower stomach, but it was the peaceful look on her face that stood out the most.

In the years that I'd known her, I'd never seen Analii look so calm and unbothered. She'd been so skittish, right from the first moment I met her. When Thomas had shown up with her, an unassuming, quiet and timid teenager, I'd had no clue what to think. All she had was a name, and everything else, Thomas had said, was unimportant.

I didn't question him on who she was, why he'd brought her along. Somehow, I'd known I wouldn't get any answers, but the way Analii had flinched at movements that were too sudden, voices that got too loud, and the glimpses I'd seen of dark bruises on her arms had been more than enough for me to draw my own conclusions.

In the beginning, she'd practically stayed glued to Thomas' side. Everywhere he went, she cautiously followed close by. That had went on for weeks; I thought my heart would break from the overwhelming amount of sympathy I felt for him. To be so young and so traumatized?

Ana must have sensed the sorrow I felt regarding her situation, because it seemed like every time the thought crossed my mind when we were in the same room together, I'd snap back to reality to find her not exactly glaring at me (I think she was too afraid to), but the look was one that'd been filled with ice. I'd been convinced she'd hated me, despite Thomas reassuring me countless times that she didn't.

"She wants to hide, Roy. She doesn't know if she can trust you," Thomas explained. "Just give her time."

It took three weeks for her to even speak to me. It took two more weeks for her to actually have a conversation with me. It took another month and a half after that for her to stay in a room with me (though she still kept her distance) and not follow after Thomas if he left.

With as inately cautious as Analii was, I figured that clipped conversations and engaging at more than enough of a safe distance was the best I was going to get from her, but then she surprised me.

I absentmindedly mentioned to Thomas about making a trip to the library when she, very suddenly, piped up.

"Can I come with you?"

She damn near crawled under that table, she srunk back so far when Thomas and I both looked at her, me being much more surprised than him. "I... I mean, if that's okay with you... Roy."

Her voice had been so quiet, then, that I'd had to strain to hear her.

"Of course," I'd replied, smiling. "I'd love for you to tag along."

I learned quickly that she was an avid reader. We'd bonded over that, and it was only after those first couple trips we took together to the library that the fear that seemed so ingrained in her personality started to melt away.

She smiled more, after that, blue eyes glittering with a new spark of life. Our conversations got lengthier, dipping into topics like philosophy and religion. Slowly but surely, fear gave way into trust, cation gave way to friendship.

And then all of a sudden, that frightened, skittish girl was back. She'd decided to go to the library by herself. I didn't think anything of it; she'd done so a few times before.

She shouldn't have been gone long, but an hour passed, then two hours. Then she showed up at Thomas' door, freezing, half conscious, and badly beaten. After that night, she wasn't just fearful; she was terrified.

Of what? I didn't know, nor did Thomas. And she was too stubborn, too scared to even explain what had happened. No matter how much we asked, we got no answer. For a while now, she'd managed to push that fear aside, she'd managed to bury it down, but now it was winter again.

The nightmares were back, and as far as I could tell, they were getting worse.

I was worried, afraid for Ana, and this time, the sorrow I felt for her was nearly crushing.

It was half of what kept me up at night. I missed my friend, missed the light in her eyes that I had only just gotten to see spark to life, missed that smile that I'd grown to adore...

Letting out a sigh, I trailed my fingers lightly up her back, running through her dark hair, listening to the crackle of the fire and the soft sound of her breathing. Moving slowly, carefully, I untangled her limbs from mine, sitting up on the couch. Making sure she was still asleep, I stood up, pulling the blankets back over her. Brushing hair back from her face, I leaned down, pressing a light kiss to her forehead, softly whispering:

"Sleep tight, sweetheart."