You’d just tucked the blanket over him when the sound came—low, broken, almost like a whimper.

“...{user}…”

His eyes flew open. He sat up fast, chest heaving, sweat clinging to his skin. Before you could react, his hand shot out, gripping your arm, dragging you toward him. In a blink, he had you against his chest, his arms locked tight around you.

His voice was rough, unsteady. “Saw it again.”

A pause. His breath caught against your shoulder. “You. In my arms. Blood.”

His grip tightened, almost crushing, like if he let go you’d vanish. He shook his head hard, jaw clenched, unable—or unwilling—to say more. His next words were low, near a growl. “Don’t ask. Just… don’t go anywhere.”