(Iris’s POV)
When I sleep, I fall.
Not into dreams, not into peace, but into darkness.
It’s heavy. Suffocating. Endless.
I don’t know when it started—this feeling of being trapped inside my own mind, like I’m drowning in something no one else can see. I try to fight it, to reach for something, anything to pull me out, but it’s like I’m sinking deeper.
I hear echoes.
Whispers.
"You’ll never be enough."
"You’re just a burden."
"Even if Eli knew the real you, he’d leave."
No. No. No!
I thrash, struggling to wake up, but my body feels frozen. My chest tightens. My heart pounds violently against my ribs. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream—
But why does it feel so real?
Then, suddenly—
A voice. Gentle. Familiar. Pulling me back.
"Iris."
I gasp, my eyes flying open.
I’m back in my apartment. The room is dimly lit by the streetlights outside. My hands are trembling. My breath is uneven. My shirt sticks to my skin, drenched in sweat.
It was just a nightmare.
But the fear? The exhaustion?
That is real.
I reach for my phone with shaky fingers. There’s only one name I can think of right now.
Me: "Eli… are you awake?"
A few seconds pass. I didn't receive the reply. Maybe his sleeping because it's already 11:00 PM. I just pulled my hair and bowed.
I stare at the screen. Nothing. No reply.
Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe he’s tired. Maybe I shouldn’t have messaged him in the first place.
I sigh, gripping my phone tightly before placing it face down on my nightstand. The silence in my room feels heavier than usual. It wraps around me, pressing against my chest like an invisible weight.
I pull my knees to my chest and rock slightly, trying to calm myself. My breathing is still uneven from the nightmare, my mind still racing.
I shouldn’t rely on him too much.
I shouldn’t expect people to always be there.
Because in the end, they all leave, don’t they?
I shake my head, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts, but they whisper louder.
You’re alone.
No one will stay.
Not even Eli.
I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms. Stop. Stop thinking like this.
I try to focus on something else—on the streetlights outside, on the ticking of the clock, on the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. But my mind keeps circling back to the darkness, pulling me under.
Then—
Ding!
I jolt, my heart racing as I grab my phone.
Eli: "I’m awake. What’s wrong?"
My fingers hover over the keyboard. A part of me wants to lie, to say I just wanted to check in, to pretend I’m fine. But another part of me—the tired, broken part—wants to be honest.
I take a deep breath.
Me: "I had a nightmare. I feel… off. I don’t know."
There’s a pause. Then—
Eli: "I’m calling you."
My phone starts ringing, and for the first time in hours, I feel like I can breathe again.
Maybe he won’t always be here. Maybe one day, he’ll leave too.
But right now, he’s here.
I stare at my phone as it rings, my heart pounding.
For a moment, I hesitate. Do I answer? Do I let him hear the shakiness in my voice, the fear still clinging to my chest?
I close my eyes and inhale deeply before finally swiping to accept the call.
"Hey," Eli’s voice comes through, gentle and steady.
I swallow. "Hey."
There’s a slight pause, as if he’s waiting for me to say more. But I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know how to explain what I’m feeling.
"You’re okay," he says softly. "Just breathe."
His words are simple, but they feel like an anchor, grounding me when my mind wants to drift into chaos.
I focus on his voice. The warmth in it. The familiarity.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.
I shake my head, then realize he can’t see me. "Not really," I admit.
"That’s okay," he replies without hesitation. "We don’t have to talk. We can just stay on the line."
My grip on the phone tightens.
How does he do that? How does he always know exactly what I need, even when I don’t say it out loud?
Minutes pass in silence, but it’s not the kind of silence that suffocates. It’s different. Comforting.
After a while, I hear him yawn.
"Sleepy?" I ask.
"A little," he admits. "But I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep."
I smile faintly, even though he can’t see me. "You don’t have to do that, Eli."
"I want to," he says simply.
Something in my chest tightens—not in fear this time, but in something softer, something warmer.
"Okay," I whisper.
I close my eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing on the other end of the call. It’s steady. Calming.
And for the first time tonight, the darkness doesn’t seem so scary.
With Eli’s voice guiding me back to peace, I finally allow myself to drift into sleep.
Maybe, just maybe… I’m not as alone as I thought.
I listen to the quiet sounds of her breathing, steady but still a little uneven. She’s trying to sleep, but I can tell she’s still restless.
I keep my eyes on the ceiling, my phone pressed against my ear.
I wish I were there.
I wish I could sit beside her, hold her hand, and let her know she’s not alone—not in this, not in anything.
But all I can do right now is stay on the line.
I let out a slow breath. "Iris?" I whisper, not sure if she’s still awake.
No response.
She must be drifting off.
I close my eyes, letting the silence stretch between us. Not the kind of silence that feels empty—but the kind that makes me want to protect her from everything, even her own thoughts.
I wonder what she saw in her nightmare.
I wonder how long she’s been carrying this weight alone.
I shift onto my side, rubbing the back of my neck. I know she hasn’t told me everything yet. She always brushes things off, always says she’s fine.
But I see through her.
I see the way her smile sometimes doesn’t reach her eyes.
The way she hesitates before answering certain questions.
The way she paints everything in black.
And I don’t know if she realizes it yet, but I’ll wait.
I’ll wait for the day she trusts me enough to tell me the things she keeps buried deep inside.
Until then, I’ll stay.
Even if all I can do is listen through the phone.
Even if all I can do is remind her that she’s not alone.
Because she isn’t.
Not as long as I’m here