Narrator x Reader: I’ll Dry Your Tears by Kat “Snowshoe” Knight
I was sleeping, but I suddenly took on this strange feeling, which caused my dreams to become overcast. Soon I had to open my eyes to the darkness of my room. I blink a couple times to get the sleep out of my vision. When adjusted, I saw a figure near the edge of my bed. All resources went to my hearing now, and I listened. I could hear you moving under your clothing, your wavering breath, and the stickiness of your palms against themselves as you balled up your hands.
“…Honey?” My voice broke the silence, dry and raspy.
I swallowed to moisten my throat as you then kneeled on the floor, crossing your arms and pressing them against the mattress. I reached a hand out to you and touched the side of your head. The corner of your eye was damp, and I dabbed against it with my palm to dry it. Your light sniffles sounded restricted. You didn’t want to show weakness.
I sat up and placed my hands on the sides of your head, kissing your hair. Your nose followed me as I slid to the floor besides you. I pulled you close and kissed your cheekbone.
“Here you go…”
I moved my hands to your shoulders, telling you to stand up, and guided you to where I had just been lying on the bed. I fixed the pillows under your head and felt blindly down your body with my hand. When I reached the button of your jeans, I undid it and slid the zipper down. You hesitantly grasp the wrist of my other hand, but I rubbed your chest to reassure you.
With both hands now, I fingered between the jeans and your hipbones, inching them down your legs. Once low enough that they were baggy and loose, I moved to your feet and gently pulled them the rest of the way off. I folded them and laid them on the nightstand beside you, then sat myself at your side. I decided to leave your shirt, for your warmth, and pulled the blanket over you, making sure every part of you below your shoulders was covered. Then I leaned down and left a lingering kiss on your forehead.
I felt your hand on my shoulder now, and placed my own hand on top of it.
“I-I…” You started. But I moved my lips to yours, not pressing, just barely touching, to quiet you.
“Everything’s alright now…” I breathed.
You pressed your lips against mine for a quick, tender moment before you buried your face into my neck and stretched your arms around my shoulders, squeezing me tight. Your voice broke then, and you released some tears at last. I shed some of my own in turn. Your emotional state always affected mine strongly, especially when you were down.
I move my hips over you and lay on the bed next to you. You came with, shifting to your side. Our arms remained locked around each other the entire time. I loved that so much.
But your grip relaxed for a moment as you felt behind me with your hand for the edge of the blanket. You pulled it down and I lifted my body in conjunction as needed. Finally you pulled it over my feet and then back up over me, using it to bundle us close together. I hooked a knee over your hip and flexed my own hip, strong enough that I rolled to my back and pulled you onto me.
You move your head to my chest and your arms to my middle. We both sigh deeply, and I was relieved to hear your quivering had left. I kept one arm wrapped around your shoulders, and the other hooked around the back of your head, stroking your forehead with my hand, while you nuzzled into me, hugging me tight.
After some time, I felt your muscles slowly relax as you drifted into a well needed slumber. But I couldn’t go back to sleep myself. I was still worried about you. I didn’t know what hit you, but I hoped you were over it and would be well rested by time you woke. I closed my eyes and laid my head against yours, attempting to relax again.
Consciousness did eventually happen to slip from my grasp a few times, but I don’t think it was quite a full sleep. When I peek for the hundredth time and see that there was light finally beginning to shine through the window, I wake myself up and wiggle out from under you, being careful not to wake you in the process.
I moseyed out of my bedroom and into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes and yawning along the way. I figured you would appreciate waking up to some hot soup to warm you and numb your throat, so I rummage for a pot.
I nearly burn myself on the finished bowl at first, and curse mildly, but hold it with the bottom of my shirt protecting my skin and quickly shuffle back to the bedroom. When I return, you are on your back, your arms stretched over your head, like you had woken, but fell back to sleep.
I set the bowl on the nightstand, scooting your pants over to make room. Remembering the sticky, disgusting mess left on my face the last time I cried, I head to the bathroom to make a damp towel. I return for a second time to see you now peeking through really sleepy eyes. But the sleepy smile on your face filled my body with warmth in a shot and a shiver ran down my spine in reaction to the temperature change.
“Well, g’morning.” I say sing-songy as I sit down on the edge of the bed next to you.
“Mor’in’…” Your dry voice cracked horribly.
I chuckled as I handed you the soup, making sure it was secure in your hands before releasing.
“You feeling better?” I asked softly as I used the towel to wipe across your forehead, then dab the corners of your eyes, and finally blot your cheeks.
“Mmm…Mhm.” You mumbled as you took a sip of the soup. “Thank you.”
“Of course, darling.” I set the towel down and lean in to kiss your lips. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.”