[Warning : This chapter contain depiction of sexual assaults that may be upsetting for readers. Reader discription is advised]
Draw the blinds, Check under your bed
Hide your gold, And hold your breath
Feel the ghost, In your chest
Check your pulse,You're scared to death
-Neoni
A T H A L I A
'Two veg burgers and a cold drink.'
I took a sip from my drink. Cade was focused on his phone rather than eating; he removed his glasses and closed his eyes.
"Athalia, why don't you shift to my room?" he asked, but why all of a sudden?
"Shift to your room? Why?" I repeated. He tilted his head to meet my eyes, backfiring my question, "Why were you struggling with sleep every night?" My stomach was twitching; I didn't know if it was because of his question or his breath.
"Just Nightmare-"
"Don't lie," his voice sounded strict. "I felt scared sometimes; is this a problem?" I said rudely, hoping he would change the topic.
But he didn't...
"This is a problem," he calmly tucked a strand behind my ear. "And you were ignoring it."
I am not a small girl who cried over bad dreams. They were scary, and sometimes I even got paralyzed; it was the worst. Obviously, I was trying my best to ignore it. But I couldn't; I ended up getting hurt or breaking things. He still hadn't seen the ugliest part yet.
"It's not just your physical health affecting your body but mental too. You have two choices - either go to therapy sessions or let me take care of you properly." He held my hands, which were on my lap. I would never go with the first one. I hate therapies; I hate someone who is getting paid to just hear my problems. But why all of a sudden did he want to care about me and help out?
"And what made you care about me?" Words just fell out of my mouth; this was a strange way to ask, but his eyebrows frowned. "I don't know, maybe because I wanted to learn how to take responsibilities before taking control over the company."
He talked just like his father. "It's nowhere connected to 'why I should move to your room,'" I said, pulling my hand out of his grip.
"So, that I can keep an eye on you during your sleep; I know you trouble with sleep." This was something I didn't expect him to say. Is he being protective around me, or is it about something else?
"Why so nice all of a sudden, Cade?" He turned silent as if there is a loss of words. He turned his head to the other direction away from me. "If you don't want to, it's okay. I'm not pressuring you."
I repeated my question, but he looked down, then at me. "Just can't hear your sobs, I want you to get better so I can sleep peacefully. Besides, you're a crybaby."
He lied. I can tell by his voice; it's not usually confident. By the time we had spent time together - maybe just a month or two, we became well enough close to spot who is lying.
It's the way Cade acts when he wants to hide something, his feelings. He tries to push himself away but ends up coming right back to me.
"When do you want me to shift?"
"Tonight, tomorrow, whenever you want." We get up to leave. Whenever I want, I don't mind shifting to his room; I stay there most of the time, and we live under the same roof. But the relationship between us is getting more complicated; he's not my boyfriend, and I'm not someone he loves.
We are exactly tied together by a thread, and once it broke, there are no chances to knot it. The weather was great by day, but it was strange that dark clouds appeared. We decided to head back home.
The heavy sound of thunder and raindrops filled the hall; a pitch of darkness, maybe Ronan fell asleep early, that's why no lights were turned on. Cade placed the groceries bag on the counter, and I followed him to his room like a lost puppy. But when he opened the door, words said by him echoed in my head, 'Shift with me, to my room.' Why should I? Why would he want to care about me? Why begin so nice?
My body froze on the track with these thoughts, eyes staring at the cold floor.
"What happened?" His husky but calm voice reached my ears; that was the moment of realization that my brain cells needed a little time to make any kind of decisions now. I can't let my guards down so easily just because he's being nice to me.
There must be something he is up to, and I don't want to feel regret or grief anymore. What if he hurt me like others have done?
"I, I would like to sleep in my room tonight." He didn't question my words, but still, there was an unspoken concern on his face. He nodded his head in return. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my waist, pressing me into him. He placed a kiss on my forehead.
"Goodnight Lia." He whispered with that smile, curved perfectly on his lips. I wanted to kiss him so badly.
"Good night," but instead, I left; his eyes stayed fixed on me until I shut my door.
Each day, his each action made me question his behavior more and more. Does he have good intentions, or is he just having fun? Can I trust him? Is he falling for me? Or am I the one falling for him?
After completing my night routine, I lay in bed in a long black nightgown. I closed my eyes, and the soothing sound of raindrops drifted me into sleep. 'I don't know what I should do' was the only thought I was left with.
✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽
I felt a weight on my chest, a hand tightly around my neck. Someone was trying to kill me.
My hands started sweating, my body became numb. A major headache hit my head.
My hell was rising, soul frightening. Was I dreaming? I opened my eyes, and no, I was not dreaming.
She was on top of me, her hair falling around my face, her long nails trailing my soft cheeks. Trying to move or shout was not worthy because I was aware I couldn't, even if I tried. I couldn't move. I couldn't call for help. I could run away from the world, but not from my own self.
I was my own monster every night, the dead Alina. Half-burnt cheek, red eyeballs, marks all over her body hovering in thin air above me. Her hand traveled on my body, she whispered in my ears, "Trying to kill me, sweetheart, but I'm still alive inside of you."
Her black nails moved to my heart as she laughed and dug them inside of me. It ached, my flesh burning. She grabbed my jaw, and tears started coming out. "You can't escape death; I will kill you."
Her body melted into mine, a chilling whisper echoed in the room. I gasped for air, but the lingering pain persisted. The atmosphere grew heavy, as if a hundred malevolent eyes fixated on me. A haunting voice whispered, 'They're coming for you,' as an icy wind swept through the room, causing my hair to stand on end. My body quivered, hands shook uncontrollably, and an ominous presence enveloped me. I was trapped in a living nightmare, tormented by unseen forces closing in on my terrified soul.
I threw the blanket, desperately searching for the light switch. My feet trembled as they touched the cold floor. The vase beside my bed fell and shattered into pieces, mirroring my broken state. I was no longer in control; my feet sank into the sharp fragments, blood mixing with the shards.
The horror overwhelmed me - the eyes, the darkness, this room. Tears cascaded down like an endless river. I tried to run, but there was no refuge, no safe haven. I couldn't protect myself from the looming darkness within. Guilt washed over me, and the realization hit - Cade might have been trying to protect me, and I had doubted him. More tears flowed, a relentless stream of emotional agony.
I ran without caring about the darkness, without caring about the blood coming out from my feet. I tripped, the hallway covered with a trail of my blood. My hands shivered, holding onto his room's doorknob. What if he laughs at me like Asher used to? What if he doesn't help me?
But the silence is so loud; where could I go? I opened the door with my unsteady hands. The room was empty; he is not here. No one is here to save me, and panic kicks in. The voices grew louder, the laughs. I'm a mess, my hands covered in blood.
"Please, help me," I cried to myself, moving my head to and fro. Where could he go at this night? Is he out with a girl? I moved a bit and found light coming from his lab. With the leftover strength, I tried to walk.
I almost made it to the first stair, and a sharp pain hit my lower abdomen. I screamed, holding it down, enough to grab his attention. His eyes widened seeing my condition. Is he angrey? Now he must be thinking I'm ugly; he doesn't want to touch me anymore.
I felt my weak body lift up from the ground. He neither asked nor complained, just held me in his strong arms while I bled all over his expensive silk shirt. My arms around his neck, I sobbed in his chest. And for the first time in life, I felt safe-safe from those voices, those eyes, from the fear. They were still here but couldn't touch me anymore. My safe place. . .
I clutched tightly onto his shirt when he placed me on his bed, not letting him go.
"Don't leave," only came out from my fragile lips. My lower abdomen again started paining. I guess it's not only my feet bleeding now.
"Lia," he took a strand of my messy hair, "you are bleeding," he whispered. "We need to clean up the blood," he said lightly stroking my back. What if I go back to my room and see her again?
"I don't wanna. I don't wanna go back to that room." I buried my face into his hard chest. "It's okay, I'll bring your clothes and whatever you need. Go and wash yourself, then I'll do your first aid. I'm here for you, chérie."
With these, I let my guards down. I don't need the wall of safety anymore. Maybe I can believe him. I wipe my tears with my both palms, letting him go. "Go fresh up. I'll bring your things."
He helped me to get up but tripped again because of my swelled feet. "Should I carry you to the shower?" I nodded, and he carried me to his shower room. Can't believe these types of boys still do exist.
I'm not sure how much blood I just lost, but it looks like a lot. The warm water drips down my body. I heard the bathroom door open again. "I've placed your things here," he said. I can see his figure moving from the blue glass. It would be really embarrassing to ask, but I'm still afraid. "Can you stay in the bathroom till I shower, Cade?"
He didn't even move for a peek, just hummed in response. I sighed in relief, washing my hair. I did all the stuff and stepped out. He was leaning on the glass door, arms crossed, eyes closed, in a clean white t-shirt and black track pants.
"Cade," I softly said as he opened those blue eyes, and for the next few minutes, we just stared, stared at each other until he picked me up again. Why does he do things all of a sudden? My mind doesn't even get time to process what's happening.
"Put me down, I'm okay now," I whispered, my lips almost touching his ears. Do I weigh nothing to him? "Walking will swell your feet more," he replied and made me sit on the bathroom counter. A perfect view of his abs came into sight when he stretched his hand for the first aid box. I really don't want to stop him; he is looking so sexy... No, it's not time for this, Athalia.
He held my feet in his big hands. Gosh, those veins... My periods are really playing with my hormones. At the wrong time. I flinched when he started wiping the wound with antiseptic. "How?" He asked in a stern tone.
"Nightmare." was all I could answer. I don't know how to explain what actually happened. He must laugh at me, that I got scared because of just a dream.
He looked up at me, "Don't look like just a nightmare, I'm again asking. How?"
"Hallucinations, it may sound stupid, but it happens usually. But today I became a bit more scared than usual." He frowned his eyebrows; his face had a pretty 'pissed off' look. Is he angry with me?
"Usually," He said and nodded, trying to seem as innocent as I can. I just don't want him to be angry at me. "Usually, and you think it's normal. You didn't deem to tell anyone; it's stupid to you!"
He is angry. Shit! Instead of words, tears came out. I'm a crybaby to him, and here I am crying again and again. "Sorry, please don't be angry." He cupped my face with his both hands "Who said I'm angry, I'm just upset Lia. It's not a less concerning thing; you should not be this careless."
He is nothing like Asher, nothing like him, and nothing like Asher described him. Asher used to laugh at this, saying this is all my fantasy and nothing more, somewhere I believe it. Then it turns into a habit.
"You are going to a therapy session tomorrow." He ordered, what does he think, ordering me around, who is he, my husband?
"No," I denied "Yes, you are," he said, ruffling my wet hair with a towel. "No, I am not." I really don't like going to therapy. I just don't like strangers knowing my problems, then judge on it, then giving suggestions.
"You are going-" he made it clear. Do you know the best way to stop your man from arguing is, is to kiss him. I slam my lips on his; at first, he was surprised but closed his eyes, taking control. My back touched the big mirror; I gasped, and he forced me to part my lips and enter his tongue.
Thousands of butterflies started dancing in my stomach when his warm tongue stroked mine; it tasted like grape wine. But it can't stay for a lifetime; a sharp pain again kicked my abdomen, causing me to bite his lower lip.
I pulled away and gasped for air.
"This was a really great way to persuade me, Ms. Nova." My cheeks turned red after hearing him. "I'll shift to your room tomorrow, is that okay with you?"
He gave a nod; his hands again lowered to carry me again. "I can walk, Cade." But he didn't listen "You should not; the wound will swell more."