The Mating Run by Leeka

Zeke’s POV

“Alina!”

In His Eyes: Dreams

The words come out in a choked scream, the syllables stretched and strained.

But there’s no response. Her empty gaze seems to pierce through the darkness, detached and unfazed by the struggle beneath her hands. My chest tightens with fear, as if sharp claws are digging into my ribs, demanding to be set free from the crushing grip that looms over me. Desperation and confusion mingled in my eyes as I wrestled against her tight grip.

“Alina, please!” Struggling to speak, I managed to rasp out my words, my plea echoing in the void that separated us. “Let me go!”

And then, as if jolted awake from a dream, her eyes widen with recognition. In an instant, the vacant look on her face is replaced by a surge of realization, as she comprehends the magnitude of what she is doing. The tightness around my throat loosens, allowing me to take a gasping breath and feel the immediate relief of fresh oxygen entering my lungs.

“Zeke?”

As she speaks, her voice wavers, conveying a sense of confusion and deep remorse. Clutching my throat, I could still feel the lingering sensation of her hands, like a ghostly touch.

“What… What happened, Alina?”

Horror and guilt immediately wash over her face, causing her to recoil. Her hands tremble uncontrollably as she gazes at them, her entire body filled with a sense of unease.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I just… I thought I was dreaming.”

As I sit up, the bed feels even colder than it did moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says, her voice a fragile apology in the quiet darkness. “I’m sorry.”

“Alina, it’s okay,” I murmur, my voice an attempt at reassurance. “It was… just a bad dream, right?”

As she looks at me, her eyes, clouded with remnants of the night’s confusion, well up with tears, revealing a blend of fear and sorrow on her face.

“I’m sorry, Zeke,” she whispers, her voice trembling, eyes never wavering from my neck. “I’m so sorry, sorry, so sorry…”

My hand reaches out, delicately cupping her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin.

fell.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry, come on.’

But her tears kept streaming down her face, leaving gentle pathways as they

I guide her to sit beside me on the bed, the cold reality of the night enveloping us in its presence. “Alina, you can’t blame yourself. We’re both trying to figure this out, and sometimes things get a little messy. It doesn’t change how I feel about

you.”

with tears, remains a poignant display of sorrow. As I pull her into a comforting embrace, I can feel her body relax against

this, Alina.

hurt you, and I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

her words barely audible, revealing the fragile

I say, my voice a gentle murmur. “We can’t predict what’ll happen, but we can face it together. And I’m

gratitude and longing.

brushing away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re worth every bit of patience and understanding.

make contact with my skin, a grimace forms on my face. I can then feel a wetness against my neck,

“Zeke, you’re bleeding!”

a mark on my neck, a tiny wound left behind by the strength of her grip during the nightmare. Alina’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of blood, her hands shaking as she comprehended the

I reach for the first aid kit, I notice the glistening

you calmed down,

hand, I carefully unravel it, feeling the soft fabric and seeing the adhesive side that will soon adhere to my neck, covering the

nods, her hands trembling slightly, clearly still affected by what happened. Her eyes remain fixed on me, flickering between the bandage and my face, as if searching

securely in place on my neck, I am relieved to feel the coolness providing

okay, Alina. Don’t worry

complex blend of gratitude and guilt reflecting in her eyes. As she tries

me,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the quiet

can’t kill me.” I reach out, gently brushing her hair away from her

from the bandage, her fingertips gently caressing the fabric as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden within

first aid kit aside, taking a moment to listen to the birds chirping in the distance. “We’ll find a way to manage it, Alina. And I won’t let you

in the air intensifies the weight of uncertainty, enveloping us in a shared vulnerability. My words, spoken with a quiet determination, act as an anchor, keeping us grounded in the midst of

trembling with a touch of hesitation. “Maybe it’s better if I

shake my head, adamant about not allowing

alone.

If anything, I should be the one staying

mine, a mixture of surprise and frustration flickering within. “Why

grasp. “Alina, I can’t be angry at you. We’re navigating uncharted territory, and I won’t abandon you when you need support the most.”

I guide her down the bed, encouraging her to lie back. This time, there’s no distance between us. Instead, I pull her close, my arms enveloping her in a protective embrace.

I say, my fingers gently running through

a shaky breath, the weight of the night’s events still pressing on her. “I don’t want

room. “You

fear persist in her eyes, and I feel the need to lighten the atmosphere. “You know what we

a small scoff,

can be funny, even

being more of a bonfire than a meal.

each passing moment in the story, Alina’s laughter grows more genuine, erasing the lines of worry

reflecting gratitude. “Thank you, Zeke. I needed