little
bit.
Other than our clothes strewn about the floor from last night,
the only other things of note in his room were his guitars. His
main guitar, the one still tucked away in its black carrying case,
was leaning against the wall beside an older, clearly worn one.
Since Kellan never used that one while playing, I figured he kept
it for sentimental reasons. Plain and seemingly inexpensive, he’d
told me it was the first guitar he’d ever had, and the only
possession he’d taken to L.A. with him when he’d run away. It was
quite possibly the only thing from Kellan’s childhood that was a
happy memory for him. And, since his parents had literally tossed
everything of his when they’d moved to this house he’d inherited,
it was also the only memento of his youth. His childhood scared me
a little bit too, just for a completely different reason.
As I fingered the smaller, silver guitar around my neck, the
symbolic keepsake of him that he’d given to me when we’d been
breaking off our affair, a keepsake that never left my body, I
twisted my head to look at what had awoken me.
The sheets tangled and twisted around his body, his bare chest
silver in the faded light pouring through his window, Kellan moved
restlessly beside me. His brow furrowed, his face distraught, he
was shaking his head and murmuring something I couldn’t make out. I
twisted around to touch his cheek, but he flinched away from me
like I’d hurt him.
“Kellan,” I whispered, “you’re dreaming…wake up.”
His hand fisted the sheets near his hip. His breath picked up as
he shook his head again and whimpered. Carefully adjusting my body
to a comforting position beside him, I leaned over and soothingly
hushed him. Draping my arm over his chest, I could feel how rapidly
his heart was racing. Tears pricked my eyes as I wondered what he
was dreaming about. With Kellan, it could be any number of horrible
things.
Leaning my head against him, I kissed his shoulder. “Wake up,
baby, it’s just a dream.”
He started saying, “No,” then, “Please.” His face cringed away
from me. His legs drew up to reflexively curl into a ball. Kissing
his shoulder again, I lightly shook him. “Kellan, wake up.”
Taking quick, shallow inhales, his body trembled under my
fingers. Just as I considered turning on his lamp to wake him up,
he gasped and his eyes flew open. Immediately propping himself up
onto his elbows, he shied away from my embrace. Looking around with
wide eyes, he seemed lost, like he didn’t know where he was. With
his breath still quick and his body still quivering, he swallowed
over and over.
I reached out and cupped his cheek, forcing his gaze to mine.
His confused eyes narrowed. “Kiera?”
I nodded, scooting closer to him. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay.
It was just a dream, Kellan.”
His rigid posture slumped back and he closed his eyes and hung
his head. “Just a dream,” he muttered. My heart cracked a little
watching his face. Kellan’s bad dreams weren’t really just dreams.
They were more like memories. I wasn’t sure which bad memory Kellan
had been reliving, but I knew it had terrified him.
Inhaling slowly, he took a couple of deep breaths. When he was
calmer, he peeked back up at me. Running a trembling hand across
his mouth, he shook his head. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
Swallowing the emotion in my throat, I flung my arms around him
and crushed my bare body to his. His arms loosely came around me
and I could still feel his heart surging as adrenaline coursed
through him. “It’s okay.” Kissing his cheek, I gave him a few
moments to collect himself. When he settled back down to the
pillows, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose like he had a
headache, I propped myself up on his chest. “You want to talk about
it?”
Bringing my hands up to his temples, I pressed my thumbs into
the soft spots, taking over his headache reducing
bit.
Other than our clothes strewn about the floor from last night,
the only other things of note in his room were his guitars. His
main guitar, the one still tucked away in its black carrying case,
was leaning against the wall beside an older, clearly worn one.
Since Kellan never used that one while playing, I figured he kept
it for sentimental reasons. Plain and seemingly inexpensive, he’d
told me it was the first guitar he’d ever had, and the only
possession he’d taken to L.A. with him when he’d run away. It was
quite possibly the only thing from Kellan’s childhood that was a
happy memory for him. And, since his parents had literally tossed
everything of his when they’d moved to this house he’d inherited,
it was also the only memento of his youth. His childhood scared me
a little bit too, just for a completely different reason.
As I fingered the smaller, silver guitar around my neck, the
symbolic keepsake of him that he’d given to me when we’d been
breaking off our affair, a keepsake that never left my body, I
twisted my head to look at what had awoken me.
The sheets tangled and twisted around his body, his bare chest
silver in the faded light pouring through his window, Kellan moved
restlessly beside me. His brow furrowed, his face distraught, he
was shaking his head and murmuring something I couldn’t make out. I
twisted around to touch his cheek, but he flinched away from me
like I’d hurt him.
“Kellan,” I whispered, “you’re dreaming…wake up.”
His hand fisted the sheets near his hip. His breath picked up as
he shook his head again and whimpered. Carefully adjusting my body
to a comforting position beside him, I leaned over and soothingly
hushed him. Draping my arm over his chest, I could feel how rapidly
his heart was racing. Tears pricked my eyes as I wondered what he
was dreaming about. With Kellan, it could be any number of horrible
things.
Leaning my head against him, I kissed his shoulder. “Wake up,
baby, it’s just a dream.”
He started saying, “No,” then, “Please.” His face cringed away
from me. His legs drew up to reflexively curl into a ball. Kissing
his shoulder again, I lightly shook him. “Kellan, wake up.”
Taking quick, shallow inhales, his body trembled under my
fingers. Just as I considered turning on his lamp to wake him up,
he gasped and his eyes flew open. Immediately propping himself up
onto his elbows, he shied away from my embrace. Looking around with
wide eyes, he seemed lost, like he didn’t know where he was. With
his breath still quick and his body still quivering, he swallowed
over and over.
I reached out and cupped his cheek, forcing his gaze to mine.
His confused eyes narrowed. “Kiera?”
I nodded, scooting closer to him. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay.
It was just a dream, Kellan.”
His rigid posture slumped back and he closed his eyes and hung
his head. “Just a dream,” he muttered. My heart cracked a little
watching his face. Kellan’s bad dreams weren’t really just dreams.
They were more like memories. I wasn’t sure which bad memory Kellan
had been reliving, but I knew it had terrified him.
Inhaling slowly, he took a couple of deep breaths. When he was
calmer, he peeked back up at me. Running a trembling hand across
his mouth, he shook his head. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
Swallowing the emotion in my throat, I flung my arms around him
and crushed my bare body to his. His arms loosely came around me
and I could still feel his heart surging as adrenaline coursed
through him. “It’s okay.” Kissing his cheek, I gave him a few
moments to collect himself. When he settled back down to the
pillows, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose like he had a
headache, I propped myself up on his chest. “You want to talk about
it?”
Bringing my hands up to his temples, I pressed my thumbs into
the soft spots, taking over his headache reducing
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