He didn't try to dismiss the dream as 'just a nightmare.' He held space for the terror. He sat with her in the dark, patiently waiting for the erratic thumping of her heart to match his own steady pulse. He knew that for Amara, the danger was rarely the external world, it was the internal belief that she was an inevitable catalyst for disaster.
"I am not going to let you burn," he whispered into the quiet, his voice filled with a fierce, protective warmth. "If your light is too bright, then I will be your shade. If the road is too steep, I will carry you. We are not rewriting the past, Amara. We are simply refusing to let it dictate the future."
As the panic finally receded, leaving her exhausted and raw, Amara clung to the permanence of his grip. For the first time in her life, the silence of the night wasn't filled with the echoes of those she'd lost, but with the quiet, grounding promise of the man holding her.
–
