shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

[OOC: Directly after this.]

It's a jolt, waking so suddenly. She stares at the shadowy ceiling, damp with sweat and shaking. She remembers... An all-too familiar nightmare which changed into a very unfamiliar dream where she and Ishamael had been children - and she couldn't do anything.

In dreams, anything's normal, but she could think, but her dream-body didn't obey the least thing she tried to do. It's still dark outside. The girl sits up, rubbing her head. That wasn't like anything, and she never dreams like that, and it makes no sense...

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Shelley stiffens, muscles tensing along her back and arms.

"You just don't want me broken."

And he doesn't. What good is a broken toy? She doesn't look up, cold and frightened. Even if he does intend to help get rid of her dreams, the worst of them are all due to him.

His fingers slowly wrapped around her jawline as he spoke softly. All of his time studying her gave him a very strong idea of what she might be thinking. He wanted her to understand.

"You are not an object or a toy. You are a person, and one whom I care about deeply."

Shelley flushes slightly, uncertainly, and turns her head away.

"There is remarkable evidence against that, you know."

She knows. It is the subject of most of her nightmares every night, after all.

Ishamael nodded calmly, his voice still soft as his fingers began to slowly stroke her upper arm.

"I know... I did not always see you such, but now I feel differently."

"Does that mean I should?"

Oh, and she shouldn't have said that. But it's true - and it may have been a long time for him, but for her...

And she doesn't believe anyone can change from what he was. What he is.

His face fell for a moment before he sighed quietly. His arm tightened around her in an embrace.

"It means that you can. We can make things different. It can change. I can help with those nightmares."

"How?"

Oh, she wants them gone. All she's waiting for are his conditions, and how intends to do it. Somethings are worse than nightmares.

A small smile as he leaned his head gently against hers. His voice was soft as he spoke.

"Sadly, there is no instantaneous cure, since the Power is never the best option. Simple counselling is best."

Shelley pulls away slightly. His arm is still around her, but she will not let him...

Snuggle is entirely the wrong word.

But... she can live with counselling. She has talked to Michael about it, a bit, she can probably do so again.

"I could try it."

Ishamael nodded calmly as she pulled away, but he firmly kept his arm around her. His hand gently laid on top of hers.

"It will help, the nightmares will slowly stop. I have a library with books that you can read and I will make recommendations and such."

Shelley is aware of the strangeness of taking advice from him.

There is a cold, sinking feeling in her stomach as she imagines what he must be seeing, or maybe what he's doing - making sure her mind is in perfect order before starting to hurt her and break her again. No fun if she can't react. No fun.

The girl shivers, head bending unconsciously forward in something like a nod. She's so tired.

Ishamael tensed his arm in another half-embrace as he leaned in and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"I want you to be able to rest peacefully."

Shelley flinches again, turning her head away because what other choice does she have? Only things not to be considered.

"So do I."

And the lost sound in her voice can't be hidden, not so tired and defenceless as now.

Slowly, his arm slid around her waist, a touch of a frown flickered across his face. No matter, he would win in the end.

"Shhh... Just close your eyes and rest. I will keep you from having any more nightmares tonight."

The soft sound of his voice was accompanied by the slow, stroking motions of his hands on her skin.

Shelley wriggles slightly away, uncomfortable. Does he mean he's going to stay? Oh dear, no. That's the last thing she needs.

She should probably tell him to... but she can't think of what, exactly, to say, this tired and distracted, so she simply turns a stiff-muscled back to him in silence.

The fact that she did not run out of the room was certainly an improvement, and with even that little progress made, Ishamael could be content. Still with his arm firmly around her, a pillow slid under his head as he lay down beside her. A soft smile as he smelled the scent of her hair. It was like (Apples) pomegranates.

If possible, her small body stiffens further at the warmth of his chest against her back. She tries to twist a little, but one arm effectively holds her in place. Her whisper is sharp.

"...S-so, you're stopping the nightmares by making sure I can't sleep?"

A smile blossomed on his face. He had certainly not expected that from her. His fingers pressed gently, closing on the material of her nightgown over her stomach. The interplay of the softness of both her gown and her skin was exhilirating. A low breathy whisper through her hair.

"If you want that..."

His cheek and chin, slightly coarse, brushed the side of her neck as he placed a few kisses on her neck and under her jawline.

"You would certainly sleep better eventually."

Shelley gapes in sheer shock for a moment, blushing so hard from what he evidently thinks - and what are his hands doing? - she thinks she might die from sheer humiliation. It takes a moment for her to realise the slightly strangled squeak had been herself.

"Wh- Gah- No!"

Propping himself up on his elbow, he glanced down at her face. His fingers still idly tracing patters on the skin of her stomach as he asked.

"Oh?"

A quick, chaste kiss on her lips as he continued to hover over her.

"Then why did you suggest it?"

She twists, and turns her head almost violently, breath quick and panicky. No. Oh, no, she will not let him play.

"I did not. You misinterpreted!"

A light chuckle as she rolled nearly on her stomach, his hand, enviably, trapped beneath her. Tilting his head, his brows furrowed slightly.

"Did I now?"

...Fuck.

"Yes!"

Her fierce whisper is muffled by the pillows, but clear enough. Face hidden, she hopes he can't see the colour of her skin.

A small smile as the hand under her body pressed gently upward. His voice was softly curious, his eyes wandering to enjoy the slight curves displayed by her position. Certainly pleasing to the eye.

"Then why are you blushing like that?"

She attempts to kick him backwards without looking.

"Beause it is embarrassing, leave me alone."