Ling wondered what it was his partner dreamed of
Ling wondered what it was his partner dreamed of, what it was that kept the blond writhing and wincing in his sleep, trying to evade whatever monster his mind saw fit to taunt and torment him with.
That was the clinical corner of his mind, the same part that was still more interested in the alchemical secrets that Edward appearance and Alphonse's existence hinted at than the plethora of other reasons he had come up with to keep the blond close. The rest of him was overwhelmed with a possessive anger at seeing his lover so tormented. He wanted to know what was hurting Edward, wanted to fight it, frighten it off, or kill it. Anything to keep Edward from making those pitiful, wailing noises in the night; anything to keep Edward from pushing Ling away as he lurched awake.
Ling didn't want anything disturbing the rare time he managed to steal alone with Edward, didn't want the peace of his nights threatened. It was damn hard enough coaxing the alchemist into bed, to relax enough to let another person so close...Ling despised having to deal with the unhappy aftermath of haunted dreams.
Inevitably Edward would pull away, mouth open and panting as he fumbled his way into full wakefulness. It was the shadow that would mar Edwards beautiful eyes that made Ling clench his teeth, trying desperately to keep the frown he could feel threatening off his face; else risk Edward thinking it was directed at him. Ling hated that unnatural vulnerability that tainted those moments, darkened the brilliantly outrageous self-assurance that was the normal Edward. The daytime Edward.
Edward suffered nightmares, and suffer was the key word, which left Ling troubled and alone on his side of the bed, on a rather consistent basis, which was not something he enjoyed at all.
"I'm cold." Ling politely informed his lover, who was doing his best impression of a gargoyle on the edge of the bed. A rather well clothed gargoyle. "You have all the blankets." He supplied helpfully.
Edward, after a rather long delay that was apparently filled with a close examination of his knees, turned to look at Ling. "You have all the pillows."
"I'll share if you do." Ling coaxed, moving over just enough to reveal the temptingly plush edge of Edwards favorite pillow.
It was a ritual that had evolved through long nights of trial and error on Ling's part. It was a delicate procedure, luring Edward back to bed, a careful ignoring of what had just transpired. Ling hated the necessity of his practiced silence, of his forced retreat to trivial concerns.
Edward inched his way back across the bed, refusing to seem too relieved at the prospect of being back in physical contact with the other man. He needed to seem unconcerned, even a little irate at the contact. It was the salve that made the vulnerability go away, concealing emotional blemishes.
It was a relief to them both, though neither ever gave any tangible indication, when Ed curled back into Ling's arms, heaved a shuddering sigh, and attempted to go back to sleep.