Page 84 of Phantom Flower

“What don’t you have, baby?” I asked, brushing my thumbs under his eyes. “What do you need?”

His bottom lip trembled.

“My flower…” he choked out, new tears spilling down his cheeks. “I lost my flower.”

Fuck.

My little fairy lost his flower.

I rested my forehead against his.

“Let’s go home, okay?” I murmured. “I’ll get you as many flowers as you want. I’ll fill the entire mansion with them if you want.”

Rei’s teary eyes met mine. He gave me a tiny nod.

I lifted him into my arms, cradling him against my chest, and took him home.

When we reached the mansion, I carried him straight to the bathroom. I ran a hot bath and slowly undressed him. Then I lowered him into the water and knelt beside the tub.

I took the soft sponge and washed him, wiping away every trace of blood. Rei sat with his knees drawn to his chest, staring at nothing, looking heartbreakingly small and empty.

I moved so slowly, like I was trying to wash away the trauma itself, even though I knew I could not.

When he was clean, I dried him with a warm towel, dressed him in his softest pajamas, the ones with tiny white flowers scattered across pale blue fabric, and brushed his damp hair.

I found a fresh red wildflower I had picked earlier that morning and carefully clipped it into his hair, right where it belonged.

Then I carried him to bed.

I laid him down gently and held him in my arms.

We did not speak. He needed silence, and I gave it to him.

The next morning, I did not leave the room.

I stayed right there, sitting in the armchair beside the bed, watching over him, because something deep in my gut told me not to leave. I knew better than to think the demons were done with him.

I was right.

Suddenly, Rei woke up screaming.

His body thrashed under the sheets, and his hands were clawing at the air as if he was trying to fight off something invisible.

“Rei—” I climbed onto the bed, pulling him into my arms. “Wake up, baby. I’m here.”

His eyes flew open. For a second he did not recognize me. Then something clicked, and he threw himself forward, burying his face into my neck.

“It’s okay,” I whispered into his hair, rocking him gently. “You’re safe. No one can hurt you here. Breathe, Lyubimyy. Just breathe.”

He cried, and I held him through every sob, pressing kisses to the top of his head and anywhere I could reach.

When the worst of it finally passed and his breathing began to even out, he pulled back just enough to look at me. “I’m sorry…” he whispered.

I shook my head. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

He swallowed. “It’s been so long since I had those… the nightmares, I mean.”

I caressed his cheek with my thumb. “You used to have them often?”