My Head Hurts

My head hurts. 

She stared up at the sky. It was too bright, like walking out of a dark room into a cloudless morning. Except it was night. Past midnight actually. She didn't know why she knew that. Suddenly she felt herself being pulled back, and her vision spun in a kaleidoscope of stars and planets and the space in between. 

She could now see the moon, a half moon, grinning down at her. She could see what looked like a small, rickety walking bridge above her, and a young man perched on the railing, legs dangling off. He stared down at her, his face a mess of unreadable shock. She wanted to tell him to get down, he could hurt himself. Though she didn't know why she cared. 

My neck hurts.

He must have heard her warning, for he turned back onto the bridge, and disappeared from view. She continued to stare up at the ramshackle edifice after he’d gone, and a slowly growing tide of pain welled up in her throat. 

Don’t leave me. I don't want to be alone.

After what felt like eons, she saw the man picking his way down the slope of the ravine. He moved like he was walking on glass, feeling his way through each step. Soon he was standing above her, arms wrapped about himself like he was cold. He shivered. Looking at him, his head obscuring the moon, she noticed how beautiful he was. Unkempt stubble lining his jaw, warm green eyes, teeth just crooked enough to prove he was human. But that wasn't it, he was beautiful because of something else. Something…

Who are you? Why do I care about you so much?

“Maeve?” 

That word, and the fear in his voice startled her. 

“Love?” His voice broke.

She didn't answer. She didn't know how. Though she felt like she should. These were words she should know and it bothered her that she didn’t. 

“Please… Please, please, please, please,” he whispered, kneeling beside her. His eyes and the hope clinging to them made her ache. 

My head hurts, do you know why? 

He pulled her onto his lap, so her head rested on his knees. Something felt wrong, crooked, but she didn't know what. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no…” He held her to his chest, so tightly she could feel the sob building within him. She wanted to knock it down. 

He wept into her hair, his entire body shaking. Every breath sounded like it hurt, like he was breathing acid. 

She felt warm in his arms, safe. And for a second she felt something shift in her head, something trying to rise to the surface. An image, something powerful. His warmth. She reached for it, and then it sank back into the nothing as quickly as it had been provoked. But she did come to a realization in that moment 

I don’t know who you are, but this is wrong. You shouldn't cry. 

She knew this as fact. She wasn't supposed to let him cry… No, she wasn't supposed to let anything make him cry. She was supposed to be his warmth as well. 

My neck hurts, and I'm not sure why, but that's ok. I'll just stay here for a bit. With you.