let's weave a house out of dreams (слэш)

Gaara tucks his head further into your arm somehow, enough that the sound of his voice is muffled and you have to strain your ears slightly to hear him. “Nightmare,” he tells you, voice trained into a flat, even tone, though the tight grip his fingers have on your side betrays how he truly feels about this; he is frightened. This just won’t stand, will it? Not if you can help it.
A sweet post-nightmare comfort fic. ❤