raposaselada:

It's in the middle of the night and my muse had a nightmare about yours- what does my muse do?

Naruto sat up as quick as possible and swallowed in his screams. His fists were forcefully clenched into his duvet but he was unaware, conscious only about the frantic beat of his heart and the slowly dripping sweat beads on his chest and face. 

It had been a nightmare.

It wasn’t real, he knew it wasn’t real, but yet he couldn’t help the dryness of his mouth or the shallowness of his breaths. 

Mom…

She was screaming in pain, pouring her eyes out in front of him, and all he could do was sit still and silent, and watch. He tried running to her to help in some way, but his legs wouldn’t move. His lips were glued together and he could barely breathe, let alone say anything. He’s only met her once before, but he never wanted to see her again, if seeing her meant meeting her like this. 

It had been a nightmare, he knew. It wasn’t real.

But Mom…

He pulled the duvet off from over him and slid his feet at the side of the bed, tentatively touching the cold hardwood floor with his toes. It stung a little, the difference in temperature, and so he stood up out of the bed and relished in the coolness of his feet. It had been a nightmare.

He made his way to the kitchen and thought about turning the light on, but decided not to, and turned to the window instead. There was so much light already, from the moon and the stars and the streetlights. He turned the faucet to cold and let the water run for a while. There was so much light already. Some was yellow or orange, but most of it was that kind of washed out blue that early nights would have, when the moon was full and when the lights were twitching. 

He grabbed a cup and filled it with water, and sipped a little, but returned to the window before swallowing. She’d been there too, once. She’d seen this kind of nights too. She’d known this village too, like he did. It had been hers too, once. He took another sip and focused on feeling the cold water spread inside him and on the shadows that the wind was making with the tree branches and street lanterns. It had been a nightmare, he knew. But Mom…