However, I find myself asking, “What do you dream of in that state?”
She sniffles and slowly releases me to wipe the tears off her face. I expect her not to answer, but then her soft voice carries in the small living room.
“Sometimes, it’s blurry images and faceless monsters. But often, I relive what happened back then, or at least, the helplessness of the situation and how desperately I wanted to stop it but couldn’t.”
That motherfucker will wish for death when I get my hands on him.
“Other times”—her voice tightens with emotion—“I dream of Mum’s and Papa’s devastated faces, especially Mum’s. When I started going out with him, Mum didn’t like him, and that dislike grew once she met him. She said he gave her a bad feeling that she couldn’t put a finger on, but I told her she was overreacting and that I was lucky to have him as a boyfriend. Can you believe I actually used that word? Lucky?”
She laughs to herself, the sound choked and uncomfortable, like her entire posture.
“He was popular, well-mannered, and good-looking, so I couldn’t figure out what exactly Mum found so wrong about him. Every time I talked about him, she’d get this weird expression on her face and try to convince me to find someone else. She’d tell me that I’m pretty and smart, and I could have anyone I want. But I refused and even disliked her for misjudging him. Little did I know that her feelings were spot on.” She sniffles. “After I got back home, I couldn’t face her and kind of fled to stay with my grandfathers. I still can’t face her sometimes. I keep wondering if everything would’ve been all right if I’d just listened to her instead of being stubborn. And somehow, I created some sort of a rift between us that I can’t mend.”
“You didn’t know.”
“But she did.”
“No, she didn’t. She only had a feeling, that’s all.”
“But I should’ve listened to her.”
“You. Didn’t. Know.” I enunciate every word. “Don’t blame yourself for something you can’t control. That’s where vicious ghosts lurk.”
She swallows, then clenches her hands in her lap. “I just feel bad for the feelings I had toward Mum at the time. She’s done nothing but support me in everything I’ve ever done. And I guess—I guess…I’ve been holding an inexplicable grudge against her all these years because of how absent she was sometimes.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Absent how?”
“She has depression and sometimes, maybe once every few months, she’d feel distant. Not that she’d push me away or anything, but I’d feel like I couldn’t reach her. I don’t know how to explain it. Papa would always tell me that she needed time, and usually, she’d come around in a day or two, but I hated how she had to deal with it on her own and I wasn’t part of the process.” She pauses and smiles awkwardly. “Saying that out loud makes me sound like a spoiled brat.”
A familiar pain I thought I was long over tightens in my chest. “No. You just didn’t like being pushed aside by your mother.”
“Right! I felt worthless and I couldn’t…couldn’t…”
“Do anything to help when she retreated into her own head. It was like she was dead yet looked alive.”
I regret saying the words as soon as they’re out, because Cecily looks at me differently. With tears clinging to her lids as if she’s about to cry again.
But she doesn’t.
She’s watches me intently, without blinking, as if she’s seeing a part of me she never thought existed before.
And because she’s an infuriating, smart little shit, she manages to put the pieces together. “Was…your mother like that, too?”
My jaw clenches, but I say nothing.
“Anni said your parents had issues before she was born and you were the one who brought them together. But did that happen at the expense of witnessing her deteriorating mental state?”
That big mouth Annika.
I stand up. “Go back to sleep.”
A small hand wraps around my wrist and she blurts, “Okay, okay. I won’t pry if you don’t like it, but can you stay until I fall back asleep?”
“You’re not a baby.” I’m about to wrench my hand from hers.
But the fucking girl sinks her nails into my skin. “I haven’t been able to sleep properly in months, because I didn’t feel safe, but if you’re here, I’ll be able to.”
I stare down at her small frame on the sofa, at the desperation written all over her face.
She said she’d get to know me, and I told her that wouldn’t be possible, but she’s throwing her whole weight behind this.
If I didn’t know she was an awkward human being who barely knows how to communicate with anyone who’s outside of her closest circle, I’d swear she was acting.
Acting or not, though, her state shouldn’t be able to affect me. Not even a little.
Not anywhere close.
But as I stare into the glittery green of her eyes, a myriad of unknown emotions fester in my chest.
“I’m the last person you should feel safe around, Cecily.”
“But I do.”
“Despite everything I do to you?”
“I wanted that. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come here every day.”
I thought she did it because of the threats.
Well, fuck me.
She came because she wanted to? And she’s actually admitting to that?
“I’ll stay if you answer my question.”
She nods twice.
I know I’m going to sound illogical and I’m pushing it, but I need to confirm this once and for all.
“Would you have preferred to have this arrangement with Landon?”
She blinks, probably not expecting this question, but then she seems to mull over her words.
“In the beginning, I admit that I wanted it to be Landon. I had a crush on him long before I had a boyfriend, so he was like an unreachable god to me. One I would’ve done anything to stay close to.”
I should’ve killed the motherfucker earlier today.
Maybe if I hunt him down now, I can finish what I started.
My murderous thoughts come to a halt when Cecily squeezes my hand. “I started having this twisted fantasy about being ravaged soon after I hit puberty and kept it to myself, thinking something was wrong with me. Those feelings were more prominent after that incident with my ex, and I thought I was being punished for having the fantasy. I didn’t dare act on it until this year, and I’m glad it wasn’t Lan who made it come true, because I realize just how shallow my feelings for him were and how much he wouldn’t have cared.”
Were.
Her feelings for him are a ‘were.’
She’s glad it wasn’t him who made the fantasy come true, which means she’s glad it’s me.
Well, she ddidn’t say it like that exactly, but I choose to believe that.
“And you think I do care?” I ask like a dick.
She rubs the side of her nose with her index finger. Fucking adorable.
“Sometimes.”
Sometimes is enough.
For now.
I was so intent on leaving earlier, but instead, I do something I’ve never done before.
I stay.
CECILY
“Can you guys like not?”
I slide my attention to Annika, realizing I zoned out, but it was the good kind this time.
I was sort of daydreaming about two days ago when Jeremy not only let me stay, but he also actually slept beside me.
Or more like, I slept sandwiched between him and the edge of the sofa. I woke up a bit achy due to the position and the cramped space, but I didn’t have another instance of sleep paralysis.
It didn’t happen last night either.
Last night, however, he did fuck me on the deck with my head hanging above the lake while I screamed and begged and called his name, but after that, he stepped in the shower with me, and then he carried me to the bed upstairs.
Something that’s never happened before.
I didn’t have to ask him to stay or feel like I had to walk on eggshells so as not to provoke his monster side.
In fact, he’s the one who pulled me on his lap when I was trying to put some clothes on and kind of made us sleep like that.
Naked. With his large body wrapped around me.
Another first.
Before, Jeremy was always clothed in some way, even while he set my world ablaze. I figured it was because he needed to put a barrier between us and to make it clear that whatever we have is exclusive to using each other’s bodies.
But a shift happened two nights ago. It started when he sat me on his lap and was content with talking to me instead of fucking me the moment he saw me.
Some sort of a connection blossomed between us that night, which is probably why I felt safe and offered him truths I don’t usually talk about to anyone.
In return, I caught a glimpse of Jeremy’s depths. Not the beast who chased and caught me, but of the man who used to keep me at arm’s length.
He still shut me down the moment I started to probe, but he at least stayed. And last night, we slept flesh-to-flesh.
I think that was because he needed to have access to me the next morning, but that’s not important.
The fact that he’s letting me in is.
Despite not wanting to get tangled in his web, I most certainly am. At the moment, I can’t find a way out—and I’m not sure I want to.
I meant it when I said that I plan to get to know him, because I do. Not only do I feel completely safe around him—despite his warnings not to—but I also like myself when I’m with him.
I’m more open about what I enjoy sexually and I even get to be my nerdy self and talk about my mangas and studies without sensing that he’s getting bored.
In fact, he listens attentively, as if everything I say is important, and I don’t think he realizes that, because I’m a little nervous around him, I resort to talking in order to expel that energy.
I also appreciate how he never judges me about anything. Hell, he even buys me mangas, comfort clothes, and my favorite tea—while calling me a stereotypical English who loves their tea.
I appreciate the ease in his expression when he sees me and the softness in his voice when he says, “Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”
Those small moments of warmth, the cracks in his cold exterior, are what make me hold out hope for more.
But, on the other hand, I’m not sure if more is what I should want from someone like Jeremy.
“Cecily!” Annika waves a hand in front of my face, and this time, I really do snap out of it.
Or try to.
Anni and I are at a local coffee shop that she loves to come to, probably because they have her favorite apple juice.
It’s big yet cozy with its pastel colors and fluffy objects hanging from the ceiling.
Many students come here between classes, but Anni drops by any chance she gets. We have some time before our shift at the shelter, which is why she dragged me inside.
“What?” I take a sip of my tea.
Anni narrows her eyes—bright blue-grays that are nothing like her brother’s intense ones. “What were you thinking about so intently that you totally door-slammed me?”
Your brother.