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But there’s no time to think, as the longer I watch her struggle, the tighter my throat becomes. I need to do something.
I grab the blanket that’s strewn over the side of the bed and hold it in front of me, one corner to a hand. Then, with the fabric as a barrier between us, I hug Frankie’s body and lift her up off the floor. She freezes, and I’m not sure whether I’ve made this all worse. I fold her up in the flaps like she’s the contents of my own personal dumpling. I squeeze her tightly and sit down on the bed with her wrapped up on my lap.
Nisina climbs on the mattress to investigate my work. She sniffs Frankie’s blanket-wrapped body.
“Do you have a better idea?” I ask the kaia.
Her response is to curl up directly in front of me to watch us closely.
“Spoiled disloyal beast,” I mutter to her. “Sleeping in the queen’s bed while your master lays all alone.”
Frankie shivers, neither better nor worse than when she was laying on the ground. But she burrows her chin into the opening of her blanket prison.
“I’m fine,” she says suddenly, startling me.
“Should I let go?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
The three of us sit like that for so long that I nearly nod off. I don’t allow myself to drift off fully, afraid of what will happen if we both fall asleep, and she comes unfurled from her protective shell. She might wake up with even more cause for panic. Knowing me, I’d unconsciously reach for her, since all my dreams revolve around her.
At one point, I hear her gentle whisper.
“Are you awake?” It’s so soft, I wonder briefly if it is yet another dream of mine. But the weight of her on my lap is firmly real.
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” she says. “This helps me.”
“Are you saying that to be nice?” I ask.
“Why would I do that?”
“Does that mean you’re feeling better now? Will you be able to sleep?”
“I’m not sure. Will you be able to sleep?”
“Honestly, I was afraid that it might make things worse for you if you woke up next to a sleeping male, and even worse if I started cuddling you in my slumber like a greedy bastard.”
“In this situation, you’re cuddling more blanket than me,” she says. “It’s alright. It’s not the bed the bothers me. It’s the floor. See, I have these fits when I’m dreaming, and I often attempt to sleep-walk, or sleep-run might be more accurate. I end up on the floor, and if I wake up on the floor, I panic. I start to think… that I never escaped.”
I squeeze the blanket dumpling tighter on instinct, and she doesn’t make any protest.
“Yes, you were on the floor when I found you,” I say, my mind spinning. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I don’t want to pry into your secrets or make you relive unpleasant memories, but the more I know, the more I can help.”
When she says nothing, I start to carefully untangle myself from the Frankie-cocoon I created. I let her fall gently on her side, amused when I get a view of her face peeking out from within. There’s a pensive expression on her face, chewing on words that she can’t or won’t say to me.
I crouch beside the bed to bid her goodbye. On the other side of her, Nisina is sleeping soundly, so she won’t be alone.
“Now, shall I let you try to rest? I could leave the light on or turn it off…”
We’re face to face, another moment that leaves me fantasizing about kisses. But with the substance on my tongue that would arouse her against her will, I’m not certain I’ll ever get the chance to take her mouth and part those pink lips. I think of all the things I might’ve done to comfort her with my body—stroking her hair, pressing my weight against her so she’ll feel secure, and perhaps lying with my cheek on her cheek to whisper in her ear.
“Actually, I’d like it if you stayed,” she says softly. A small, pale hand emerges from within the blankets, and she pats the space next to her. “Lay here with me?”
Her expression pleads with me, as if I’d ever refuse her.
