No matter how fast he glided through the air on his strings, you managed to run faster. It shouldn’t be possible. This chase was maddening, frustrating beyond belief. And yet still he hadn’t caught you, didn’t have you in his arms to tell you how foolish this was.
The terror in your eyes when you looked at him…he didn’t like it. Who had placed that fear of him in you? Who had turned you against him? He vowed to find out and deal with them accordingly.
You ran and ran. Even when Doflamingo believed himself to be gaining on you, he never caught up. You’d scream and put more effort up the hill, rushing blindly towards wherever you were-
Cold realization struck him.
“Y/N! Stop!”
He heard you whimper, but you did not heed his command. Your legs took you further up the mountain, heading towards the peak with terrifying speed.
Doflamingo was too far behind to do anything to stop you, even as you reached the top and hurtled off the cliff down to the rocky sea below-
He awoke with a start, a sickening bile rising in his throat. The terrible nightmare was still vivid in his mind, but as seconds turned to minutes, the panic began to fade enough for him to ground himself.
Seeing the familiar walls and windows of his bed chambers, you blissfully asleep beside him, he forced a steadying breath through his lungs, letting it out in a slow stream.
He spent several minutes sitting there, his exposed chest slicked with sweat cooling in the breeze coming through the window. He debated whether to get up for the day or attempt to go back to sleep. Neither option felt appealing.
Seeing you shift in your sleep, still oblivious to his internal struggle to compose himself, he decided to lay back down on the bed, one hand propping his head up so he could lean on his side and watch you comfortably.
The movement caused you to stir, and your bleary gaze lifted to see his face.
For a heart-wrenching second he feared seeing that same horror they’d reflected in his nightmare, but when you give a tired groan and shift to press closer to his chest, relief washes away the anxiety.
“’s wrong?” He hears you mutter, and he hums in a comforting way.
“Nothing. Sleep, dear. Return to your dreams.”
He hears you hum a response, mind too fatigued to form further words.
His fingers massaging your scalp, he spends the rest of the morning staring into your relaxed face, reassuring himself that you would never turn against him the way his subconscious mind seemed to fear.
ns 15.158.61.12da2
