Rowan28
Rowan
The door shook as his fists slammed into the wood with more force than I'd ever heard before. Each hit landed hard, sharp, and jarring. My whole body locked up when the familiar voice shouted from the other side.
"Open the fucking door, Rowan!"
I shrank as much as I could where I sat on the floor, back against the wall, arms wrapped around myself. No matter how tightly I closed my eyes or tried to breathe, I couldn't drown him out. Every word that came through was aimed straight at me.
"I'm done playing nice! You hear me?!"
The next hit rattled the deadbolt hard enough that I thought it might shear clean off. It jumped in its housing with every punch, and I could hear the frame start to give way. I pressed my hands over my ears to block out the noise.
Another hit. And another. I stared at the door, waiting for the hinges to break apart. The wood started to snap under the force. And then –
The door burst open with a crack, splinters flying as Marcus shoved his way inside. His eyes were filled with that same twisted anger I saw the night he almost –
I sat bolt upright, breath gone, throat tight. For a second, I didn't know where I was. My body buzzed with adrenaline as my gaze shot around the room. The space was too dark. Too still.
I was in the bedroom. Alone. No Marcus. My door was shut.
Just a nightmare.
I scrambled for my glasses and nearly poked my eye out as I shoved them onto my face. The faint light from my phone made me squint when I looked at the time.
Not even one in the morning. I'd barely gotten any sleep this time.
I tossed the phone aside and rolled onto my back. My chest heaved like I'd just run full tilt down the street. The sweat clinging to my neck had already gone cold, and my heart pounded too loud and fast in my ears.
I stared at the ceiling and tried to ride it out. Deep breaths. One at a time. In, hold, out. But my hands still trembled, and every muscle stayed tight and braced for impact.
The worst of it started to ease after a minute or two. The tightness in my chest let up enough to let me breathe without feeling like I was suffocating. But the tension didn't leave. It just settled into my shoulders, my neck, my spine.
The nightmares had eased up since Eli moved in. The first few nights, I actually slept. Not well, but at least I felt somewhat human in the morning. But they never fully went away. They just waited until I let my guard down again.
A soft rap at the door made me jump. The adrenaline hit again before my brain caught up and registered the voice that followed.
"Ro? You okay in there?"
I quickly pushed myself upright and leaned back against the headboard, trying to smooth the tension out of my face. I barely got settled again before the door creaked open and Eli peeked in.
I cleared my throat, hoping it didn't sound as raw as it felt. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
He stepped inside slowly, looking a little dishevelled. I felt his concern more than I could see it in the darkness, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. Instead, I reached blindly for the blanket and yanked it over my lap. I didn't want him to see how worked up I still felt.
He stopped at the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed as he carefully looked me over. After a moment, he said gently, "I heard you. You were talking in your sleep."
I winced at the thought. He'd been sleeping on the sofa, and my door was closed. How loud did I get for it to wake him up?
"It was just a nightmare," I muttered, though the words rang hollow. "I'm fine."
I could tell he didn't believe me. He hesitated, then carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to pretend with me. Remember? It's okay to not be fine."
A lump formed in my throat as I tried to keep it together. I didn't want to break down in front of him. I'd done that too many times already. But my nerves were still too raw, and I could feel the walls I'd put up starting to crack.
He turned to sit properly beside me. Initially, he didn't do anything. He just sat there, close but not crowding me. Then I felt his hand hover near mine, and he paused as if to give me the chance to pull away.
I didn't.
His fingers curled around my hand, and he gave it a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumb over my knuckles in a slow, grounding rhythm. That simple touch undid me more than anything he could've said. The knot in my chest pulled tight again – but this time, it wasn't panic. More like relief.
Almost on instinct, I leaned into him. My shoulder bumped his, and then I kept going until my weight pressed lightly into his side.
He froze. I could feel the uncertainty ripple through him, but it didn't last long. He soon relaxed, and his arm wrapped around me. Careful at first, then firmer. Solid.
I let out a shaky breath as I leaned in further, letting my head rest lightly against his chest. His shirt was soft, and I could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath it. Every breath he took helped slow mine down.
"Sorry," I murmured. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
His chest rumbled softly with a quiet chuckle. "You don't need to apologise."
We sat there in the dark for a long while. Every now and then, he'd adjust his hold on me as if to remind me he was still there, and his fingers would trail up and down my arm. It wasn't much, but it helped calm me down.
At some point, I lifted my head a bit to look up at him.
Enough light came in through the curtains for me to make out the faint scab at the corner of his mouth – what was left of the split lip Marcus gave him.
It had faded some over the past few days, but seeing it again brought the whole thing back.
The pounding on the door. Marcus's taunts. Eli confronting him without flinching... I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.
Eli didn't hesitate. He didn't let Marcus talk circles around him or get inside his head. Somehow, even after Marcus decked him, he didn't have to fight for control because he already had it. For all the years I'd known him, I'd never seen that edge to him.
I always knew Eli was protective. He had a steady, quiet way of looking out for people. But the way he put himself between me and Marcus... He meant it when he said he wouldn't let anything happen to me. He just wanted me safe.
I'd been telling myself I was imagining the way he looked at me sometimes. That the soft way he spoke to me was only because he didn't want to startle me or trigger another panic attack. That I was reading too much into it because I wanted to.
But something changed that night.
I couldn't shake the way he stood up to Marcus. Nothing in the world could've made him back down. And when I looked at Eli now, part of me wondered if maybe I'd been wrong about the rest of it, too.
My gaze lingered on the fading mark on his bottom lip. I didn't mean to stare, but I couldn't quite help it.
What would he do if I kissed him right now?
The thought startled me. Not because it was new. God knows I'd had them before. But never when he was so close that it actually felt possible. I didn't act on it, though. For now, I just let it sit there.
But I also didn't try so hard to force it down.
I let my head rest against his chest again and exhaled slowly. His grip around me tightened just a little, and then his other hand drifted until our fingers wove together. Sure and steady. Just like everything else he did.
That small change nearly knocked the breath out of me.
"I..." My voice stuck, and I had to swallow around the lump in my throat before I could get the words out. "He got in... In the nightmare. He was yelling and broke the door down. I couldn't stop him."
I felt Eli go still. Not tense, exactly, but his fingers tightened slightly around mine. Then, without a word, he lifted our joined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles.
It was gentle. Brief. But it sent such a strong rush through me that I forgot how to breathe for a second.
"He's not getting back in, Ro," he said quietly. "Not while I'm here."
My chest ached at the certainty of his words. I didn't doubt him for a second, but hearing him say it out loud still got to me. It wasn't even a question for him. He'd already decided and that was that.
I let out a slow breath and leaned in closer to rest more of my weight against him. "I know."
He adjusted without hesitation. One arm stayed firm around my shoulders, and he released my fingers to wrap his other arm around to hold me properly. I felt his hand slide slowly up and down my arm in quiet, calming passes.
God. I didn't realise how much I needed this. I'd always felt safe with Eli, long before any of this happened. But now, it was stronger. I could finally let go of the constant anxiety and trust that he'd hold the line if I couldn't.
The longer we sat there, the more the fear faded away. My thoughts stopped spiralling. My breathing slowed down. Every time I felt myself start to drift, I expected the panic to snap me back awake. But it didn't. Not this time.
I let my eyes close and stayed right where I was, warm and still in the quiet. Wrapped in the one place that actually felt safe. I might have dozed off, but at some point, Eli's voice gently cut through the quiet.
"You okay now?"
I blinked slowly, the words taking a second to land. Then I nodded, too tired to say much, but I managed a quiet, "Yeah. I think so."
His arm unwrapped from around me just slightly as he started to ease back. The instant I felt that space begin to open up, I reached out without thinking to catch hold of his shirt.
"Wait – " I stopped myself, the instinct louder than the thought behind it. My hand lingered to hold him in place, but the embarrassment crept in fast. I dropped my gaze as the heat rose up my neck. "I mean... You – you don't have to leave... If you don't want to."
There was a beat of silence. The kind that made my stomach dip a little. I overstepped. Of course he'd let me be. He always respected my space, and I fully expected him to pull away.
But instead of getting up, he leaned back in to settle more fully beside me until we were lying down. One hand slipped around my waist, the other moved carefully toward my face. "Hold still a second."
His fingers found the edge of my glasses and gently pulled them off.
I blinked at the sudden blur and watched as he leaned over me to set them on the nightstand.
The movement drew him in so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek, and it sent a flicker of awareness through me. I didn't dare move.
Then he nestled in close again and wrapped both arms around me. "Get some sleep," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up."
My eyes fluttered shut again. For the first time in months, I let myself fully relax. Not just go limp from exhaustion, but actually rest. Every breath slowed a little more. The buzz in my head quieted.
I didn't feel the need to brace for the next thing to go wrong. I didn't flinch at every movement in the shadows. I just lay there, held in the calm of his arms, and let it all go.