Eleven – 08

[This post is from Seamus’s point of view.]

“Do you know who it is?”

Seamus blinked at Leinth as she turned away from their chest of drawers, a shirt balled up between her hands, clutched against her chest. “What?”

“Do you know who’s out there? Who’s coming?” Leinth bit down hard on her lower lip, eyes gleaming in the dim of their room. There was fear in her eyes, enormous, real. His heart seized for a moment and he swallowed hard, slowly forcing himself upright.

“I think so,” he admitted, standing on shaky legs. “I just can’t—I just can’t grasp it. It’s just beyond my fingertips in the jumble.”

“Jumble?” She set down the shirt and came to him, hands reaching to cradle his face. “What do you mean?”

He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead against hers as his eyes slid shut for a moment. “I was dreaming before you woke me, that’s all. Everything’s jumbled up with what I was dreaming about. It’s okay. I’ll sort it out.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, exhaling. “I’m sure. Just let me get dressed.” Seamus started to move away from her, stumbling toward the dresser. Leinth cursed in a whisper and moved to help him.

“This is a bad idea,” she murmured as she wrapped an arm around his waist to support him. “I shouldn’t be dragging you out there.”

“No,” he said. “No, you should be. This is about us, not them. We have to face it—at least alongside them if not alone.”

“I’m scared, Seamus,” she said, reaching to open the drawer for him as he leaned to brace himself with his good arm against the top of the dresser. “I’ve never been scared like this before.”

“It’s all right,” he said, turning to press a kiss to her temple. “We’ll be okay. We haven’t spent this long apart just to be separated now.”

“I love you,” she said, wrapping both arms around him and squeezing, maybe a little too tightly. He wrapped his injured arm around her anyway and held her.

“And I, you,” he whispered into her hair. “And I, you.”

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