Writing prompt 3

So there I was, up late at night, writing flash fiction until my heart was content. I fell into bed with a huge smile on my face. This is what I call blissful craft polishing.


[WP] The god of nightmares has fallen in love with you and tries to confess through terrifying dreams. by silverwolf51 in WritingPrompts
 

The sound rumbles again. My mind scurries through the foggy sluggishness of my synapses trying to make sense of it. An animal in my room? I can’t pinpoint the direction then my senses kick me with the understanding that something is on my face. Something warm and solid cups my entire face and I am paralysed with fear. My arms and legs won’t move, my head won’t move yet my heart hammers in my chest swifter than a hummingbird. My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth, my eyelids sealed with gunk and then I hear it again. That low rumbling growl that builds into a snarl then cuts off abruptly. Is it coming for me? Is it hurt? Where the hell is it?
My toe wriggles and switches on my waking awareness. I laugh as I peel my numb hand from my face where I slept on it and figure the noise was probably my own snoring, but I double check the room just in case. Too many reds before bed. The water on my face is blissful relief and the toothbrush brings utopia to my mouth.
A shadow flickers in the periphery of my sight and I flinch. The lingering fog of the nightmare still dampens my thoughts. I can’t grasp it in the bright morning sunlight but I feel there was something important I should remember.
The crunch of cornflakes dispels the fog. I pump up the volume on my favourite CD and dress for work. All through the day I find myself stopping to wonder what that nightmare had been about and the distraction makes me unproductive. The boss thinks I must be coming down with something and suggests I go home early and get a good night sleep. I can’t remember the last time I had a refreshing sleep. Too many nightmares. I take her advice and head home.
I stand at the foot of my bed for a long time, sipping another glass of red and wondering if I even want to sleep. Eventually my eyes will not stay open of their own accord and I slide under the sheet.
He is there again. He is fending off the monsters and evil things and keeps me behind him. He holds my hand as we ride the most terrifying roller coaster imaginable. He breathes into my mouth as we sink below fathoms of dark ocean waters. He creates a parachute of darkness to slow our plummet to the earth. When my legs won’t run he pulls me forward and gradually I begin to understand that he is keeping all the nightmare things at bay. “Why?” my voice echoes through the nightmare realms warping and changing to shades of sepia. He cups my face in his hands. His beautiful hands. He bends his head to mine and I look into storm dark eyes and fall into the abyss. I feel myself cocooned in a bubble of emotion. It tugs at my awareness. It is love. My wonder ripples out into the immeasurable darkness and
I wake up, smiling.