<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">An arm wrapped around her and as the reality around her was beginning to settle, she was startled by the embrace. Her body tensed, muscles drawing in tight, frightened that it was one of those cold, inky hands coming back to drag her down into darkness. But a familiar warmth prevented her from fighting against the hold, a calm voice in her ear reminding her that she was safe. Regardless of knowing that she was conscious and no longer at the mercy of her visions she was still shuddering, not yet able to come to grips with the images she had seen and experienced. It was all so tangible, from the scent of the woods to the heaviness in the air from the fog. More disturbing that anything was the image of Scarlett, a young girl rabid and chained. So fresh in her mind she couldn’t even begin to wonder what it could have meant, too uneasy and distressed to try to decipher abstract enigmas. Ava was all too willing to find comfort in Wes’ eyes as he spoke to her, reminding her to breathe. Those ragged gasps she drew in lacked the kind of depth she needed to establish a regular breathing pattern. But, Wes helped. With a nod of her head, she tried to mimic the deep breaths he inhaled and exhaled. <br/>
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Her breaths stuttered the first few intakes, but gradually began to smooth when his hand found its place against her cheek. He consoled her further by pulling her in, and she gladly leaned into him, her hands clenching the back of his shirt. She was still taking those slow and controlled breaths as her head rested on his chest, letting her breathing match his while he soothed with soft rocking and gentle hums. Even kisses helped to ease her, calming her till she was relaxed. Her hands now rested on his back, no longer holding on for dear life. As her fears began to subside she felt the rise of embarrassment, unable to meet his concerned gaze as he pulled back to look at her. “No, Wes, don’t apologize. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” Ava assured him, shaking her head softly. “It’s just something that happens, it can’t be helped . . .” She was hesitant to explain further. Before when she glimpsed into his past, she felt she didn’t need to divulge the details of her oddities and ailments. But, as she looked down, their fingers laced together, she thought better of that decision. She trusted him now, proven by the way she relied on him to carry out plans with her life hanging in the balance. The mere fact that she allowed him to touch her, to kiss her, it was a grand leap of faith that deserved its own in return.<br/>
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A part of her believed that he would be more open than the average person. As someone who dealt with the supernatural she hoped that he would be receptive, though that wasn’t always the case in her own community. Worry arose within her as she began to prepare her words. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him, have him look at her the way others who were exposed to her so-called gift did. Ava finally glanced up at him, studying the troubled expression he wore as if it were the last time she would see it-- that the next look he gave her would be one of confusion and panic, or terror and rejection. “I see things.” She started, her mouth moving before her mind could stop her. Once the vague statement was out there in the open, it made it so that she was forced to continue. Ava held onto his hand a little tighter for a moment, but her gentle but firm grip loosened when she began again, allowing him the opportunity to pull away if he wanted. “They’re, um, past events--deeply personal and private things-- that have already happened. They usually come with some kind of sensory trigger; like touch or sight, if I hear something. They’re never really straight forward, and they’re just <i>painful</i>. Excruciatingly painful.” She didn’t know if she was explaining herself well, if he was following or even believing what she was telling him but she went on. <br/>
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“The dreams I have are . . . different. They don’t hurt, and they’re way more abstract but they scare the shit out of me.” She gave him a weak and hopeless smile. “I always feel like the longer I’m asleep the more danger I’m in. Like, I’m never supposed to be where I am to see the things that I do. They’re things that haven’t happened yet . . . It’s how I know Scarlett is still alive; in danger for sure, but alive.” Ava searched his expression, trying to gage his reaction. “If you think I’m insane, I’d understand . . . I just wanted to be honest because . . . Because I don’t want to keep scaring you when things like this happen.” She said, leveling her gaze to imply that it had happened before . . . <i>with him</i>. </span>