start over | dreamwastaken x reader (sequel to split)

CLAY'S POV

The way her lips turn up into a delicate smile makes my stomach turn. Not from anger. Not from hatred. Not from any broken feeling resting in this world. But from the pure overwhelming infatuation I have for her. Her smile ignites a fire so wild that butterflies bump around in my belly trying to escape; but there is no escape because she's given me such a beauty to hold onto.

I reach forward and run the pad of my thumb gently across her smiling blushed lips. The way my finger drags across the delicate surface causes her lips to pull with my touch. Her smile breaks wider and her teeth show at my gesture. The simple action only causes a smile to form on my lips as well. 

"I still can't believe that for the rest of my life, you are my wife." I chuckle a little to myself still in awe that she's alive. That she's here. Every single bit of me of never thought I'd ever see this girl again. But then Jimmy brought her out of thin air and my world became complete again. 

I can tell by the look in her eyes she wants to reply but she can't. I feel my heart tear at the pain she still suffers with every day she's alive. She will be forever tainted because I loved her and she loved me. I don't know how she wakes up every day feeling safe. But I'm selfishly grateful she does.

She's frustrated and I know it's killing her as much as it's killing me. Tears form in her eyes as she reaches for her throat. She's dying to just let me hear my name fall past her lips. She's dying to let me hear the words I love you. But she can't. Her voice is forever damaged by a raging psychopath.

I cup her cheeks in my palms, her eyes looking straight through my soul. She swallows hard pushing away the tears she knows I can see. As many times as I tell her I don't need to hear all the words she yearns to speak, it doesn't stop her desire to want to do so. 

"Go ahead." I usher her to try to make any sort of sound. Her lips part but only long enough to let out a huff of hot air. The breeze of her breathe rushes over my skin as her head drops. Urges of wanting to lift her head race to my hands but she beats my body's motion to it. Her little hands wrap around mine and hold onto them firmly. She still desires my touch, but she can't bare glancing at the pain riddled in my features. 

She tries to speak every now and then. Just like she did as we stood side by side seeing each other for the first time in months. But I never force her into inflicting pain on herself. She's been through enough hell. I don't ever want to create that ill willed feeling for her again. This life was supposed to be full of light, with no glimpses of the past. But you can't always forget the nightmares that roam wild at night.

***

My name falls from her mouth in a struggled scream as she tosses and turns in the bed beside me. No matter how many days, weeks, months pass, the memories will always be there burned so close to the surface. None of us, no one that was at the house that night, will ever be able to forget the torture we went through. We all have nightmares. We all have pain. It's all still there. Even though we're forced to forget. 

Nights when she screams my name in quite breathless tones I comfort her with our past. Not the bad times. Just the good ones. The images of us at her parent's grave for the first time. Old videos of us from childhood. I break the rules Jimmy has given us to follow. But only because it's the only way to soothe her shattered soul. 

No amount of therapy, distancing, time, will ever erase what happened that night. When we close our eyes at night we will always see his evil smirk. We will always see the panicked faces of our friends. But most of all, we will always see the pools of blood, the red soaked clothes. And worst of all, we will see the bloody stained face of her.