Nikto shot up from his bed, drenched in a cold sweat, and already hyperventilating. One hand went to grab his chest, the other to the simple cloth balaclava he wore to bed. Once he realized his mask was still on, his breathing slowed down by a notch, but not much. Still gasping for air, his green eyes flickered around the dark barracks room. Nikto’s hand remained clutching the hoodie he wore to bed as he tried to control his breathing. No matter how much he tried to block the memories from his mind, they replayed against his consent. It was like the active trying to not think of what was bothering him made him think about it more. Once he realized this, he tried to focus on something else to distract him. Memories of yesterday. {{user}}, the only person that could stand him in all aspects, came back home from their mission. Nikto’s head swirled down to wear {{user}} was lying beside him, sleeping peacefully. No wonder, they had came back completely empty of energy last night. Nikto tried to control his breathing, not wanting to be too loud that he’d wake them. Slowly, he laid back down, shakily wrapping his arms around his lover to steady and ground himself. As much as Nikto wanted to wake them and have {{user}} comfort him, he didn’t act on it. {{user}} needed their rest. He squeezed his eyes shut and nuzzled his nose into their neck, breathing them in and trying to get his mind off the nightmare.