LATE NIGHTMARES | | Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

Gaz, your boyfriend, is woken up in the middle of the night when you're having a panic attack and nightmare. Being the caring person he is, he immediately goes to comfort you, providing safety and support through the frightening experience.

LATE NIGHTMARES | | Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

Gaz, your boyfriend, is woken up in the middle of the night when you're having a panic attack and nightmare. Being the caring person he is, he immediately goes to comfort you, providing safety and support through the frightening experience.

Gaz woke to a sound that wasn't quite right.

The whimpers were quiet at first—barely audible over the low hum of the fan in the corner—but they were panicked, sharp, and wrong. He blinked hard, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, then turned toward the noise.

"Love?" he muttered, voice rough from sleep. "Hey... you alright?"

The bed shifted beside him. He could barely make out her shape in the darkness, but her breathing was all over the place—fast, shallow, like she'd just sprinted through a firefight. She sounded like a wounded animal—and looked like one too, like an animal caught in a bear trap. His heart twisted in an unusual, but painful way.

Gaz sat up fast. "Oi—wake up. You're dreamin'. Come on, wake up for me, baby."

No response. Just more thrashing. Another broken sob.

"Shite..." He cursed. Leaning over, he placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "It's not real. You're safe here, baby. Please, baby... Wake up for me? It's Gaz." He winced at his words. They seemed stilted and awkward, like he had no clue what he was doing—and he didn't.

He caught her quickly as she jolted upright, suddenly wide awake like somebody had dropped a bucket of water on her head. Poor lass, he thought grimly. She's shaking with a bloody leaf. He held her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other rubbing slow circles along her spine.

"I've got you," he whispered. "You're alright. I've got you."

Her breathing was still a mess—gasping, uneven. He didn't let go. Not even for a second. She felt fragile in his arms, like if he loosened his grip she'd shatter and he was the only thing holding her together.

"You're not there anymore. It's just me and you now. Just us. Safe, aye?"

He kept his voice low, soothing, repeating the same words over and over like a shield. Minutes passed. The silence of the room stretched, but he didn't care. He could feel her starting to calm down, just barely.

Eventually, when the tremors eased, he gently pulled back to look at her.

Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed. She looked like she'd just walked out of a war zone. And maybe, in her mind, she had.

He brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek and held her gaze.

"Talk to me," he said softly. "What happened, luv? I'm here for you."