Chapter 227: Love, You Are Love.
Morning.
Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
****************
Lydia woke up sweating and shaking, she just had a nightmare where everyone she cared for died and she was all alone. She had killed them because the sword she was gripping was bloodied and her hold confident, she could doubt the action and try to reverse her feelings from pride to guilt but then a rather familiar man showed up with a proud smile and told her that she had to do it and nothing else.
Theodore was slowly pulled out of sleep by his wife’s soft mumbling and urgent turns, his hold around her had slackened and he had to pull her into his arms, whispering her neck and shaking her out of the nightmare he would hop into to change for her, she shook, retreating in the beginning before she relaxed and leaned into him, her tears and sweat soaking his shirt.
"Lydia, my love" he whispered, she hadn’t cried this intensely for anything unless their lost child and it broke his heart, she wasn’t a crier so seeing her being transformed into such a wet mess he felt triggered, "Look at me, I am here" he invited, cradling her, she lifted her head, her shoulders shaking slightly from the cry.
Her insistent tears had no place in front of Theodore because he wiped them away immediately they fell, "You are safe, you are love" he reassured her.
She steadied her gaze on Theodore’s clear brilliant eyes, her breath coming out in hiccups as she tried to settle her breath, "I met him" she cried out but Theodore stared at her confused, his fingers pushing errant strands of her midnight locks behind her ear. "Theodore I met him" she insisted, tears running down her face.
He blanched but asked anyway, "Who did you meet?"
She sniffed gathering her hair in a bun in a distracting way but it effortlessly drew Theodore’s gaze to her neck, he found himself leaning in to sniff it before he focused on the topic. "Gooseberry look at me" he invited, his voice soft. She does, her glistening ocean blue eyes trapping him and reminding him of a life they couldn’t live, "Who are we talking about?"