Daily writing prompts based around a weekly theme.
Prompt - After a Nightmare
This week's theme is hurt/comfort, and today's prompt is after a nightmare.
You can interpret the prompt in any way you wish! Post your work in the comments if you'd like to share.
(And sorry for the delay on it!)




She jolts up in bed, sweat dripping down her chest. Adrenaline continues to course its way through her body as her eyes dart across the room, checking her surroundings, terrified of... something. Of what she... she can't recall.
An arm wraps around her waist and her hand smothers a scream, before she look down and realizes who it is.
"Hey..." he blearily says to her, "wanna talk about it?"
She gulps, "I don't know that I can. I think I've forgotten again."
The corner of his mouth quirks into a smile, "You're safe now, no matter what the issue is." She lays back down, arms held against his chest as his arms wrap around her, holding her, reassuring her that she'll be okay.
"I'm sorry I woke you" she murmurs to his chest.
He plants a kiss on her forehead, "Don't be."
Lovely!
original ficlet
He wasn't used to sleeping with a wife. So when Laiha jerked out of sleep, he woke up to her stiffening and pulling away in the darkness. She sat up on the bed and seemed to fold in on herself, arms around her legs or torso, radiating tension.
After the confidences of last night, finally talking for the first time since their marriage had been arranged, it seemed natural to reach out and touch her gently on the elbow. "Laiha?" he asked, keeping his voice low so not to startle her.
She was the most situationally-aware person he'd ever known. She didn't startle, barely even reacted. "I'm fine." Her tone was flat.
He stared at her for a brief moment. It was a common enough deflection, but for some reason, it bothered him more than he expected. "Don't lie to me," he said before he could snatch the words back or stop them—or even want to. "If you don’t want to tell me, fine, but don't lie to me."
She turned at the anger in his voice—or hurt, he wasn't fooling anyone—but he couldn't see her face in the darkness, only that her face was so she could see him with her peripheral vision were there enough light, and it almost made him fumble for the lamp beside the bed.
She spoke first. "Is it a lie if it's myself I'm telling?"
The silence rested between them several more heartbeats before he felt her fingers cool and gentle on his face. He reached for her and she slid into his arms with an ease that surprised him, even if she'd always been more comfortable with the idea of marrying a stranger. She pressed her face to his neck, and he held her a little closer, a little tighter and warmer and against him.
"Laiha…"
"All my dreams are of fire," she murmured, cutting off whatever he'd begun to say.
He remembered, her people, her entire world had died in fire. She was one of the few survivors of Ananti. He tried to think of anything to say to comfort her but couldn't imagine anything that would help. She seemed to content to stay curled up in his arms, so he held on and waited for some easing of the tension in her body.
"I'm fine," she said again quietly. "I'm here, with you, and I'm not burning."
The burning girl. They'd called her the burning girl, and he'd never thought it was literal.
"Laiha." He had no other words, just her name as he held on.
It seemed enough though. She took his comfort and held him fiercely in return.
Past Lives
Form: drabble
Fandom: Robotech
He woke with a scream lodged in his throat and the distinct -- disturbing, unnerving -- sensation that the sounds torn from him had been anything but human.
But that was it, wasn't it. He wasn't human, no matter what the tests said, no matter the scan results. He was alien, other, and the horrors in his sleep bore that out.
No human experienced what his subconscious made him witness.
Shaking with reaction Zor levered himself upright, dragging an unsteady hand through tangled ringlets. No sound in the hall; maybe no one heard him.
Some small part of him wished they had.