Liam
I didn’t sleep.
Not much, anyway.
Sleep was always elusive to me. I was lucky if I got five hours of sleep at the most. I’d always been a light sleeper, but over the last year my insomnia had taken over. Lying in bed at night I’d stare at my ceiling, willing my eyes to close and dreams to take me away, but it never happened. Instead, I spent most of my nights locked in my darkroom or pacing the halls.
I was sure if I sought a doctor’s help they’d give me some drugs to help me sleep, but I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any foreign substances coursing through my body, affecting my surfing. I didn’t even drink that much, despite what some people may have believed.
I was sitting at the kitchen table, with my head in my hands, when I heard her scream.
I jolted out of my seat and glanced toward the stairs.
The screaming stopped.
A moment later her door creaked open, and her feet padded softly down the steps.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen and jumped back when she saw me.
“You scared me.” She placed a shaky hand over her heart and tried to calm her breaths.
I eyed her, not saying a thing.
Her blue eyes were clouded with troubles, and she seemed a shade paler than her normal bronzed glow. She was dressed in a tight, black tank top and a pair of blue sleep shorts.
I’d bought them.
I didn’t know what possessed me to go and buy her clothes, but I had, and I was glad I did. Seeing the spark of defiance in her eyes when she’d berated me about buying them had been worth it. Maybe I was sick, but I liked her fire. She came across as soft, quiet, and meek at first, but inside laid the heart of a motherfucking lion.
My eyes traveled back up her body, and I found that she was staring back at me. Her pulse pounded in her neck, and her hands seemed shaky.
She probably wondered if I’d heard her scream, but I wasn’t going to let her know. I knew she didn’t want my sympathy.
“It is my house,” I finally replied back.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Opening them, she mumbled, “Right.”
I leaned back in the chair, crossing my hands behind my head. “Is there something I can help you with?” I raised a brow.
She shook her head, tucking a wild piece of dark hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled, her lips barely moving with the words. Lifting her chin, she squared me with a look I couldn’t decipher. “And something tells me you can’t sleep either.”
My teeth snapped together, and my lips pursed. I said nothing, though—I’d learned I was better off if I kept my mouth shut.
“You have them too,” she whispered.
Despite my better judgment I uttered one word. “What?”
“Demons.”
My spin
e stiffened.
“Don’t worry—” her lips lifted slightly “—I won’t ask about yours if you don’t ask about mine.” She walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. Glancing at me once more she said, “Goodnight, Liam.”
I watched her leave, a feeling of dread settling in my stomach that I couldn’t explain.
***