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The fluffy down of Angel wings, the warm syrup of broken hearts .

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You thrashed in your blankets, the cooling dark around you like a pit of tar, pulling you in. You had to take several moments to realize that you weren’t sinking into the earth being swallowed but in your bed, alive and very much ok. Your throat was raw, your body shaking. “Another nightmare…”

The door to your room opened and you gasped. It opened with a sharp crack and in the sport way was your very pissed off, very terrifying roommate. He marched over, fingers curling into fists. 

“Why are you screaming?” He snarled. He was mad- mad was not the word for it. He was livid, furious, murderous in his anger. 

“I -I had a nightmare. Was I screaming?” You asked tentatively 

“Yes. Like something was killing you.” Brutus checked under your bed and then huffed in distaste at the state of your room. He organized the messy bits on the floor. Oh he must be really irritated. You thought as he collected those items and redistributed them to their proper positions. He only touched your stuff if he was upset- preferring to leave the messy mortal to their mess. 

“S-sorry. It was just a nightmare.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid of nightmares..” he said it, like he was talking about a rain cloud. “They can’t hurt you. It’s in your head.”

“Well I realize that now - when I’m awake. But when I’m a sleep…” the feeling of the living tar, that sticky black swallowing you whole…. you shuddered. You heard a creak as the big Angel presses his back into the edge of your head. 

“Um. What are you-“

“Shut up. Go to sleep.” He was already opening a book.

“You’re gonna - just sit there?” He has never been so close to you. You could smell the grass cut of him, the strange scent like a mixture between muddy stomped grass and fresh cut. 

“Maybe if I sit here you won’t scream.” He titleted his head at you accusingly. “I can’t read my book if you keep sounding like a pig before the slaughter.”

“You don’t-“

“Shut. The fuck. Up.” He growled, the teeth grinding in his mouth. You said not another word, but rolled over and curled deeper into your pillows. Oddly enough you felt comforted that he was there, your body relaxing. Brutus would never admit that hearing your soft snuffling breath, muffled and slightly far away hurried as you were in the pillows, was a nice rhythm to fall asleep to. He did have to cover your head a bit more, not enjoying the strange way you kept shaking and the chatter of your teeth. He preferred the silence. And so the angel and you sat in comfortable silence.