“How do you know about my coffee table?”
I bite my lip.
“Because I broke into your apartment a few times?” I say tentatively. Instead of him being angry, he just gives me a wry smile and rolls his eyes.
“Of course you did. I shouldn’t be surprised at all.”
“Just as I’m not surprised you’ve broken in here,” I say. He leans down and plants a kiss on my lips.
“I would love to move in with you, Saige. We don’t have to decide where right now. Let’s just get through this next week and see where we stand, okay?” I agree and go back to lying on his chest on my back.
“I think I want to go to school,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it and I want to do something else. Like you are. This is all I’ve known for six years and I don’t have the passion that I used to. I thought that when I was working on you, that the passion was back, but I mistook passion for you for desire to work again. Now that things have changed, I want to try something else.” He’s smart as a whip and I know he can do whatever he wants.
“Do you know what kind of classes you want to take?” I ask. He shifts so he’s leaning back farther, bring me with him. Some of the water sloshes over the edge of the tub.
“I’m not sure. Maybe you could help me pick?”
“I’d love to. This is the perfect time because you could sign up now and then go for the fall semester.” This is making me excited. I imagine the two of us going to campus together, studying together. I really like the idea.
“Maybe. I’m still not sure yet.” I don’t know why he’s going back on it when he just seemed so excited, but I’m far too exhausted to worry about it.
The water starts to get cold and I tell Sylas I want to get out. He gets up first and then helps me. I get wrapped in a towel and then he lays me in bed.
I hope I’m not going to have nightmares tonight, but I probably will. It seems inevitable at this point.
“Good dreams. You’re only going to have good dreams,” he whispers in my ear as I try to relax and go to sleep. “Only good dreams.”
Sylas doesn’t have magical good dream giving powers and I wake a few hours later. My hair is still wet.
“Blood,” I gasp. “There’s blood.”
“Whose blood?” Sylas says.
“I don’t know,” I sob. I feel sick and have to run to the bathroom to throw up. Sylas rushes after me and holds my hair back. My stomach finally stops heaving and I sit back, resting against him.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.” He moves me until I’m resting up against the wall as he goes to get a cool washcloth for my face.
“Thanks,” I say. I’m embarrassed, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Do you want to talk about it, or do you just want to go back to bed?” he asks.
“I want to brush my teeth and go back to bed. I have a final tomorrow.” God, I am so unprepared. It’s a good thing I at least got some studying done on Saturday and earlier today.
“Are you sure you want to go? I could forge you a doctor’s note and get you out of it.” I’m sure he could, but I really just want to get it over with.
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine now.”
Blood. Pooling on a scratched linoleum floor.
I shut my eyes and try to picture something else. Anything else. Another wave of nausea rolls through me, but I swallow it down and breathe through my nose. It passes and I use Sylas’ body to help get me off the floor.
I don’t tell him about the details. The floor, the way the blood makes a bright puddle. I just tell him I saw blood. For some reason I don’t want to share anything else about the nightmares with him.
“I’m okay. I’m going to brush my teeth and I’ll be right there,” I say, shuffling to the sink and grabbing my toothbrush. He holds his hands out, as if he’s waiting for me to fall.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, giving him as strong a smile as I can muster.
“Okay,” he says and shuts the door, leaving me alone.
I lean against the sink and take a few deep breaths before picking up my toothbrush and getting rid of the awful taste in my mouth.
Every muscle aches, even though I took that bath with Sylas.
I just feel… wrong and I have no idea what to do about it.
Sylas is the one who gets me up the next morning for school. I feel like I haven’t gotten any sleep at all and it’s a struggle to keep my eyes open as I brush my hair.
“Want me to braid it for you?” he asks, coming to stand behind me.
“Sure, that would be great.” He does a quick French braid for me and then ties it off. I check it out in the mirror and it looks good.
“Thanks, babe,” I say, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Babe?” he says, following me out of the bathroom and toward the front door. He’s actually dressed today, in jeans and a t-shirt that shows off his arms so well it hurts to leave him.
“I don’t know, it just came out. I have to go, I’m going to be late.” I give him another kiss and he waves goodbye.
“See you later, Redhead.”
I have absolutely no idea how I make it through Monday, but it’s pretty much a miracle. I finish up my finals and actually don’t feel horrible about how I did. Granted, I have several more the rest of the week, but at least I’ve gotten through some of them.
Dad calls me again, but I delete his voicemail without even listening to it. How dare he? I can’t even let myself think about it. I put it in a box and shove it to the back of my mind.
Sylas isn’t home when I get there, but he left me a note taped to the skull where I keep my keys saying that he had some errands to run and he’ll bring back by dinner.
Hm. I’d be lying if I said I’m not glad that he’s getting out of the house. That’s good. I’m proud of him. It sucks that I’m here alone, but I’m going to have to learn how to suck it up and deal with it. Before I was with Sylas, I was alone a lot. I can go back to that, no problem.
To keep my mind from thinking about the awful things I placed in the mental box, I get out my books and start studying again. I still have that stupid drawing to do.
Draw something I love. Well, the obvious answer is Sylas. But I’m so terrible at drawing I don’t want to do a shitty job and then force him to pretend he likes it. But I don’t have to draw his whole body…
Bam. There’s an idea. I just need to wait until he gets back.
I’m not sure when Sylas is going to be back and I don’t want to be too needy, so I go ahead and start making some dinner. I rarely cook, but I feel like doing something nice for him tonight. I’m not that great of a cook, but I can do spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread and salad.
I’m just stirring the sauce into the noodles when the door opens.
“Wow, you’re cooking?” Sylas asks.
“Hey now. I can cook things other than popcorn,” I say, pointing my wooden spoon at him. His cheeks are flushed and there’s a smile on his face. He looks good. Really good. Good enough to say “forget dinner” and take him back to my bedroom.
“I know you can,” he says, coming into the kitchen to give me a kiss. “Hello.”
“Hi,” I say, running my hands down his back to squeeze his ass. I love the way it looks in these jeans.
“How were your finals?” he asks, stepping away and leaning on the counter.
“I think I did okay. Or at least as good as I was going to do, given the circumstances.” He nods and fiddles with one of the plates I got out.
“Well, I’m proud of you for going in and doing your best.” I look up from the pot of pasta.
“You are?” He gives me a look like I’m crazy.
“Of course I am.”