Zavien
Sleep caught him like the soft tug of a gentle current pulling him down. Since his death, his sleep had been plagued by one thing or another. Memories of pain and regret, the sound of screams, purple flooding the land, Lena's cold body in his arms, Stormbreak crumbling. If it wasn't one thought, it was another.
When the nightmares had first started, he'd barely slept, scared of facing those emotions every night. He'd become a shell, tired and hollow, dreading when his eyes would close again. Even after time and distance, talking through his struggles with friends, the nights were restless. But as time passed and the traumas piled onto one another, he'd come to accept that sleep wasn't the reprieve it used to be. He grew callouses, facing his sleep with a quiet armor, knowing that he could survive the night no matter what memories were dredged up because they weren't real and he'd survived them before.
Somehow, all that changed a few weeks ago. That night with Soh... He didn't understand it, but having her so close, wrapped in his arms, ingrained in his thoughts, he'd slept deep and without interruption. Nothing dark or menacing broke into his dreams, no thoughts of death or pain or loss. He'd just slept. He hadn't lied that morning when he admitted to sleeping better than he had in months. And that was because of her.
Even now, when he should have been concerned about what may linger in the shadows, Zavien was lulled into the comfort of her, the way she made him feel safe and secure enough to let go. He rested with one arm propped behind his head, another on his stomach, one leg crossed over the other like he was just enjoying the view; but the deep rumble of his snores gave away the slip of his thoughts, exposing the easy slip in his armor.
When the nightmares had first started, he'd barely slept, scared of facing those emotions every night. He'd become a shell, tired and hollow, dreading when his eyes would close again. Even after time and distance, talking through his struggles with friends, the nights were restless. But as time passed and the traumas piled onto one another, he'd come to accept that sleep wasn't the reprieve it used to be. He grew callouses, facing his sleep with a quiet armor, knowing that he could survive the night no matter what memories were dredged up because they weren't real and he'd survived them before.
Somehow, all that changed a few weeks ago. That night with Soh... He didn't understand it, but having her so close, wrapped in his arms, ingrained in his thoughts, he'd slept deep and without interruption. Nothing dark or menacing broke into his dreams, no thoughts of death or pain or loss. He'd just slept. He hadn't lied that morning when he admitted to sleeping better than he had in months. And that was because of her.
Even now, when he should have been concerned about what may linger in the shadows, Zavien was lulled into the comfort of her, the way she made him feel safe and secure enough to let go. He rested with one arm propped behind his head, another on his stomach, one leg crossed over the other like he was just enjoying the view; but the deep rumble of his snores gave away the slip of his thoughts, exposing the easy slip in his armor.
That’s How We’re Gonna Win.
Not Fighting What We Hate,
Saving What We Love.
Not Fighting What We Hate,
Saving What We Love.
