“I can borrow some clothes from Ashley,” Jackson says after a few seconds of thinking. “Delia always keeps an extra toothbrush in the cabinet above the sink, and you can use my toothpaste if you want. If not, there’s some extra under the sink.”
We both stand at the same time and Jackson and I take a moment to just look at each other. My world has flipped on itself in one day! One moment I’m scrubbing Alpha Banastre’s floors and being beaten by his daughters, and the next I’m whisked away in a palace made of marble and a mate only one could dream of! Am I dreaming? I’ve had lucid dreams before, but this isn’t something I can necessarily control.
Finally, Jackson breaks the silence by clearing his throat. His cheeks are pink, and clearly the tension has become too much for him to bear. Quietly, I watch him as he nods to me one last time before he leaves the room. I wait until I hear his footsteps thin before dashing to the bathroom. I want to be quick and get to bed already. At the moment, my mind isn’t too occupied with the question of where exactly I’m going to sleep, and I don’t think about it until I’m out of the shower and finishing up drying my hair on Jackson’s bed. It’s soft and warm, just like he is, but the springs are a bit bouncy. I bounce a few times, reminiscing of the time when my parents took me to a carnival and we played together in the bouncy castle. The memory is so dusty and broken that I’m surprised I even remembered it.
“Hey.” Jackson knocks on the door. “Are you finished, Anvi?”
“Yeah, you can come in,” I reply. The door opens and Jackson carefully walks in. His hair is wet like mine, but less damp. His eyes are hazy again, but I think this time it’s from fatigue rather than from mind-linking. He’s wearing a shirt and some loose pants that hang from his waist. He doesn’t wear slippers, and from that I can see the ends of a tattoo curling around his ankle. He has some on his arms too. There aren’t many, but they’re so diverse and of many colors. Some of them are zodiac signs and others are lyrics. Some are names and some are words in different languages. I can only recognize the French ones.
“Vivre sans aimer n’est pas proprement vivre?” I ask.
“Huh?” Jackson stares at me oddly, unsure of what I’m referring to until I point to the tattoo on his arm.
He glances at it and laughs.
“Oh, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “I thought it was cool.”
“I think it’s cool,” I say, standing up. “It’s from Molière, right? The guy who left his wealthy lifestyle to pursue his dream of acting and writing plays?”
“Yep, that’s him.” Jackson nods. He sets his towel on the chair beside his desk (I’m guessing it’s Adonis’s towel, since there are the initials A.G. on the side and Jackson never left with anything but himself)
“Cool.” I roll on my heels and clasp my hands together in front of me. “So…um…where do I sleep?”
Jackson blinks. “On the bed?”
“Yeah, but it’s your bed,” I say. He frowns at me and I sigh. “Aren’t you going to sleep on it?”
“No,” he responds simply. “You can take my bed for tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“What?” My stomach tightens. “Wait, why? I don’t want to kick you out of your bed! I can take the couch.”
“And wake up with a sore back?” Jackson smirks at me. I glare at him and he chuckles. He walks towards me and pats my head. “It’s only for tonight, Anvi,” he says, as if that will make me feel better about taking his place.
“Still.” I bite my lip. The temptation to just collapse on his inviting bed is tempting, I’ll give him that, especially after two years of sleeping on Alpha Banastre’s raggedy blankets. But it makes me feel bad for taking something that isn’t mine, even if it is only for one night.
“Anvi, my couch is far from comfortable if you haven’t slept on it before,” Jackson continues to try and persuade me. “Adonis has camped in my room several times before, so I’m used to the couch by now. It’s big anyway. I won’t fall off.”
His eyes seem to have gotten wider. Not like a puppy, but wide enough to make me feel tempted to agree with him. He’s insistent, too. It makes my heart a little fuzzy because nobody’s ever been willing to give up a personal pleasure for me. At least, not in the last two years of my time in Hell.
I sigh. “Okay, you win, I’ll sleep on the couch.” Jackson grins. “But,” I hold my finger up, pausing his parade. “Only as long as you promise that tomorrow we’ll solve this sleeping situation. I don’t like you sleeping on the couch in your room.”
I don’t know where that confidence has come from, but it seems to have impressed Jackson. He pushes some of his hair out of his face and smirks at me.
“Deal,” he says and scoops up a pillow from his bed. He walks to his closet and pulls out a few blankets even though the night is pretty warm. He spreads them over the couch and drops his pillow on the arm.
“Sleep well, okay?” He makes his way towards the light switch that’s next to the doors.
“You too,” I say from under the velvety blankets of his bed. Jackson smiles at me and his gaze lingers for a moment – a longing, heavy gaze – and he flicks the lights off. There’s a few thumps from him moving around in the dark and rustles of the blanket along with Jackson grunting a few times before the room goes quiet.
I sink into the bed, the mattress soft, and I expect to have some nice dreams tonight. I’m finally liberated. What I couldn’t do Jackson did in one sentence. And now I was free. I’d met Delia and Adonis and found my mate. Alpha Banastre wasn’t too far away from me, but the chances that he’d be able to get me again are pretty slim.
But when my eyes finally close and the darkness welcomes me back into her realm, I don’t see the flowers and hearts and candles that I think I’ll be dreaming about again.
Actually, I take that back. I do see a candle. It’s small at first, but then it starts to get bigger. And bigger. And bigger. The flame grows hungrier and hungrier and begins to eat me. Something rings in my ear – like a scream. Is that me screaming? Is it Luna Hailey? Darcy? Amanda? It’s a girl’s scream, too low to be a boy’s. My heart is burning, then my arms, my legs. The fire smirks at me – when did it have a face? It wraps it’s chains around me, licking my skin, burning to my bone. I’m spread out like a starfish. I can’t move. My mouth won’t open, why won’t it open? I’m trying so hard, I can hear myself screaming, but I can’t move. I feel trapped. I know Jackson is close-by. I know I’m awake. I can feel the pillows. The sheets – velvet chafing my skin. It cuts through like Alpha Banastre’s claws. The flames are still eating me. They start with licks. Then bites. Then chomps. The screaming won’t stop, it’s like a siren’s wail. I can’t wake up. I can’t move even though I feel myself willing myself to move.
Anvi! A voice. A female’s voice. A voice all too familiar…
My mother.
Anvi! It’s my Dad now. I can’t see them, but their silhouette’s appear in the flames. They reach out to me and grab me and hold me close. They don’t seem to realize that I’m burning in their hold. I can’t scream. I can’t cry. I can’t move. I’m helpless, and all I want is to wake up.
“Gah!” I don’t know what happened. Maybe I was able to break free, or maybe it was because I had finally allowed myself to succumb to the fiery demons, but the chains suddenly released and my eyes snap open as my body propels itself forward into a sitting position on the bed. I’m gasping. It’s hard to breathe. The room is so dark. Are they really gone?
As my heart begins to return to its normal pace and my eyes get used to the darkness, something doesn’t feel right. It’s too quiet. I don’t hear Jackson breathing, or snoring, or even moving, which he had been doing quite a bit. It’s so calm. Too calm. The window is open. A draft flows through, caressing me. That’s when it hits me.
Jackson’s not here.
I’m all alone.
~***~
Hey guys!
What did you think? We’ve met Adonis, Jackson’s little brother. What do you think of him? What do you think of Anvi waking up alone? Is she still in Jackson’s room? Where’s Jackson?
