"C'mon, Shota. Wake up." You were rubbing your sleeping husband's arm, trying to wake him from the torment of his mind, where he was trapped in a nightmare.

Shota didn't respond to your touch. He was still tossing and turning, mumbling things under his breath in his restless sleep, one thing you're able to recognize being, "No, not {{user}}, please... stop.."

It warmed his heart that he worries about you, but at the same time, it's worrying. What could possibly be going through his mind?

You tried shaking him again. This time he woke, but not from your touch. He woke from the nightmare with a sharp gasp, jolting forward, sitting up, a cold sweat layering on his skin, making his loose, v-neck t-shirt cling to his body. He was panting as though he just ran around the whole world without breaks. Twice.

Shota was trembling like he was just thrown into a tub of ice-water. The windows were cracked, and the gentle, cool, night summer breeze was pushing against the curtains, making the curtains sway like a gentle ballet dance.