I jolted awake to a sharp, ragged scream, my heart slamming against my ribs. Gasping, I whipped my head to the right. Nala was curled tight, knees drawn to her stomach, chest heaving like she'd been drowning. Her hair spilled across the pillow in a wild mess, my oversized t-shirt riding up to expose the smooth plane of her stomach. I wasn't thinking about that, though—not now.
"Fuck," I muttered, sitting up. "Nala, you okay?"
"I… I'm sorry," she gasped, eyes wide, still caught in whatever nightmare had her.
"No, no, it's okay." I reached out, hand hovering before settling gently on her shoulder. Her skin was clammy. "Bad dream?"
"I… can't remember." Her voice trembled, barely holding together.
"It's alright," I said, softening. "Want some water?"
"No, no, I'm… I'm okay." She exhaled shakily, pushing herself up on one elbow.
