Emilia De Santigo | 18+

There was a gloaming void that was rife in my mind as I slept through the night. It prompted me to stir and fumble around in bed, searching for a comfortable position I could possibly take. One that would grant me a peaceful and relaxed slumber but I never found it.

On the nights spent alone, the nightmares never seemed to stop. They repeated the same unbearable and antagonizing memories of the past that I fought desperately to disregard and ignore.

It seemed to me like life was playing a silly game on me. It gave me the ability to shun the emotions with conscious efforts during the day and came at night, with a bowl full of popcorn and a bag filled with tapes from my past. It slid the tape into the record player, settling down with the movie beverages and a sly grin plastered across its face while it pressed the play button, ready to watch my nightly torment.

I'd end up getting less than an hour of sleep, resulting in my unhealthy consumption of coffee every morning.

So, Most times , I strived to spend my nights with James. It was a choice I'd made not just for the sake of my budding attraction to him, but for the peace of mind I got every night I snuggled in bed with him to sleep. Though most nights were the same when it came to the lack of sleep, the circumstance was more favourable that the nightmares I suffered. Quite pleasurable actually.

He propped himself on his arms now, watching me closely as I tightened my grip around his torso. He reached out for the strand of dark brown curls that fell slightly over my face, hindering his intimate spectacle. He gently tucked it behind my ear, leaning in to place a kiss on my forehead.

I smiled, wallowing in the quiet moment we shared in the aftermath of our rigorous lovemaking sessions. It definitely warded off all the demons that occupied my mind space, filling it solely with thoughts of him and the rounds of pleasure He had to offer me throughout the night.

I remember the first encounter I'd had with him. I'd just beaten a red light and he'd pulled me over. Both Hands set on his hips as he stalked towards my parked Sidan. He was adorned in his cop uniform, all stoic and serious, his expression passive yet charming in some type of way.

I remember how I'd admired his American accent, fluent and poise with a hint of empathy laced within them.

I'd begged him with the little English I knew that I was in dire need of help and there was no way I could go with him to a police station. If I did, then all my plans and all I'd gone through to get to America, would've been in vain.

He'd stared at me blankly, though his brows were furrowed in contemplation. He appeared to be conflicted with what decision to take as I peered at him with the best pout I could muster, my hands clasped together in prayer as I pleaded.

This gesture, as I came to know in the present, was a weakness he'd developed for me-to my utmost delight -and to his absolute displeasure.

When he let me go that day, he never knew that He'd done the greatest favor that I could've asked for at that time. It was too early to be detected, and I'd been fortunate enough to encounter a kind and understanding cop like him and months after, see where his good deed had led us to.

I heaved a drowsy sigh, drawing closer to him as I lay my head gently on his chest. The rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat resounding like a lullaby, slowly enthralling my mind whilst I closed my eyes.

Like the previous nights I'd spent curled up with him in bed, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace as I slept. My dreams devoid of every darkness and distress that plagued my mind on my lonely nights.