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kyoutani x reader - “nightmares”

genre: slight angst?, comfort

word count: 420

warnings: none

kyoutani would never admit it but he gets nightmares very often. some times it's about the looks of fear other people give him— the way they move away from him like the plague, eyes wide in horror like he's some sort of monster. some times it's about your father's initial distaste of him— he remembers the hushed spiteful words your father gave you and the fury that lit up your eyes as you defended him.  some times it's about you slipping out of his grasp— the terrifying thought of waking up to a cold bed once again because you were never real, just a figment of his imagination that tried to satiate his desire for love. how else could you love him like no other? him, mad dog, the crazy violent guy who breaks everything he touches?

kyoutani would never admit it to you but he's so afraid that something will make him lose you and when you're the one thing he has? that's the real nightmare.

so when kyoutani woke up abruptly that night, the first thing he did was lay a hand on your space. his skin met yours and he couldn't bite back the sigh of relief that subconsciously slipped out of him. thank god, thank whoever was out there that you were here— safe and serene in his arms without any idea of the pain and horrors staining his head.

it hurt so bad. he remembers the image of your tears as you desperately reached out to him. he remembers the suffocating weight that forbids him from nearing you. he remembers the deafening silence after you left. he remembers the taunting in his brain because it's happening all over again. he let it happen. he fucked up.  

but one glance at you and his mind was silenced. you were here and that's enough.

he took a breath. a deep one, creating a rhythm to calm his racing heart. sweat covered him in sheen layers and he was quick to wipe it off— wipe anything that he could connect to the nightmare that stained his sleep. slowly, the crease in between his brows faded into nothing. his hand moved to ruffle his head, a final act to signify his newfound composure before he laid back onto the soft linen sheets of your shared bed. he reached over you, grabbing your unconscious form closer to his to breathe in the comforting scent of your shampoo.

kyoutani would be alright because nothing ever went wrong with you near him.