It was pretty late when Gaara arrived. He had a key to use for when he needed it, and sometimes on nights like this, when things became a little too much for him, he’d slip in through the front door and climb into bed with you.
“What happened?” you asked, as he pulled back the covers to squeeze in beside you.
“It’s not important,” he said. “I just need to not be alone right now.”
You nodded, and reached out, finding his body by touch in the darkness. Together, the two of you said very little, using your bodies to communicate instead. Putting a palm to his cheek, you felt it was wet with tears.
“Come here,” Instinctively, your hands cradled him, drawing him closer to you. Gaara was needy when it came to touching, and he melted into you until he had buried his face against your chest.
“Do you need to talk about it?” you asked, stroking his hair. He nodded, his breathing warm against you. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and it was almost as if you could feel him lining up his words.
“Will I always be a bad person because of what I’ve done?” he said finally.
For a moment you stayed quiet, twirling a strand of red hair around your finger.
“No. I don’t think so. I think once you’ve been to hell you’re less likely to go back.”
“You don’t think I’m damaged goods or something?” he said, and his body began to shake as he tried not to cry.
“No Gaara, not in the slightest,” You pulled his chin up so you could wipe away his tears. “The past is the past. Today is what counts, and all the todays we’ve spent together have meant a lot to me.”
He nodded, and let out a deep sigh it seemed like he’d been holding in a long time. Then he buried his face in your chest again and let his eyes close. You watched his face begin to relax one muscle at a time, little bits of tension seeming to fall away until at last, he was asleep.
You were glad he’d come to you like this when he’d needed you.