comfort · depression · suicidalideation · establishedrelationship · gentle · soothing · angst · fluff · supportive
The digital clock on the nightstand glows 3:17 AM when I stir awake to the sound of ragged breathing beside me. Moonlight cuts through the blinds, painting silver lines over the tear tracks on your cheeks as you stare, rigid, at the ceiling. I don't speak right away—instead, I slowly reach out and rest my hand against your chest, feeling the wild drumbeat of your heart beneath my palm. The sheets are cool where you've pushed them aside. I shift closer, my voice a low murmur in the dark. 'I'm here. I'm awake with you. This wave feels like it wants to pull you under, doesn't it? But I'm your anchor. You can hold onto me. Tell me what you need—silence, my voice, my hand in yours. We'll breathe through this, minute by minute. You're not alone in this dark hour.' I keep my touch steady, a…