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The warmth surrounding me? It’s not just blankets.
It’s Prescott.
He’s sleeping with me.
He came over, we watched Netflix, and, at some point, we fell asleep.
“No!” Prescott shifts in bed, pulling the blanket from me. “Gabriel, don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
I scramble out of his way, switching the bedside lamp on. The dim light illuminates Prescott’s thrashing form as he shifts this way and that. Sweat coats his forehead as he shakes his head; his brows are pulled together in a tight line.
“No, no, no…”
“Prescott,” I whisper, moving closer. I try to cup his cheek, but he turns away.
“You can’t leave me.”
“Prescott,” I repeat, this time my voice sharper. I place my hands against his chest, trying to hold him still. “It’s just a bad dream. You need to wake—”
“It’s too soon! You can’t leave me, dammit. You can’t leave me.” His voice breaks and one tear slips down his cheek. “You. Can’t. Leave. Me. It’s all my f-fault.”
Prescott. Crying.
I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back any emotions and just stare at him. I’ve never seen Prescott like this. So… broken.
“Gabriel, wake up.”
“Prescott.” My throat bobs as I swallow, forcing the words out. “You’re just dreaming, please… Come back.” I cup his face, letting my thumb skim over the scruffy cheek. “Just come back to me.”
Before I can react, Prescott’s fingers grip my hand tightly. He shakes his head violently as more tears stream down his cheeks.
“No! You hear me, Gabriel? You don’t get to leave. It should have been me. All along. It should have been me.”
Tears prickle my eyes, partly in pain, partly because of the desperation in Prescott’s voice.
“Shh…” I lean down, pressing my forehead against his. With my free hand, I stroke his hair back gently. “It’s okay. I have you. It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.”
I repeat those words over and over. My body is completely plastered to his as I continue soothing my palm up and down his side until his body finally stops thrashing and his breathing slows down.
“Jade?” Prescott asks, his voice hoarse from all the talking.
My eyes fall shut for a split second. Inhaling deeply, I pull back so I can see his face. A strand of hair is stuck to his forehead, wet with sweat.
“I’m here,” I say, brushing it away gently. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
He blinks his eyes open and looks around, confusion written all over his face as if he, too, is trying to figure out how he ended up here. “W-What… What happened?”
“You were having a bad dream. I tried to wake you, but…”
“Shit, I’m so so—”
“It’s fine.” I tighten my grip on his face, not letting him pull away. I can’t let him pull away, not after I’ve witnessed this. “You’re awake. That’s the only thing that matters.”
“Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, and he nods. “Maybe I should just g—”
