I am awoken by screams. Not horror movie, helpless girl piercing the silent night with her voice kind of screams (6’2″ 175lb Hector is hardly Sydney Prescott), but screams nonetheless.
“What?! What?!” I ask, freaking out about his freak out.
He’s not lying next to me anymore, but is instead standing in the opposite corner of the room, terrified.
“You were floating!” he whisper-yells.
“Oh shut up, I was not,” I say dismissively.
“Babe you were floating–”
“YOUR ENTIRE BODY WAS SUSPENDED IN THE AIR! WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT, ASH?!”
I’m quiet. I thought he was messing around, but he’s never yelled at me like that before. My eyes well up.
His face falls. “Baby, I’m sorry, I don’t…” He looks like he wants to come comfort me, but he’s scared I might go full exorcist on him.
“Will you please just come back to bed?” I ask, scared. He’s reluctant, but after a few seconds he climbs in next to me. I burrow my head into his chest and he wraps me in his arms.
“Just let gravity do it’s thing, babe, okay? No more defiance.”
We lay down to cuddle. I feel safe in his arms, and after a minute or two of racing thoughts, I calm down. Hopefully anymore floating I do will be only in my dreams.