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The room has been permanently dim, with only the minimal light from outside shining through the window. It makes the room more Gothic than it should be, with their tall bed and dark floors, everything is so mysterious in here. It still has a hint of Samuel’s strong cologne, and I wonder if that makes it worse for my mom, or better.
She turns her head, looking me in the eyes for the first time in days. "I need you to go be a kid, Vera. Quit fussing on me. I'll be fine."
I almost laugh at that. Like, literally cackle. "Mom, I don't mean to be rude, but you aren't fine."
Her eyes shift back to the window. "I just want to be left alone right now. It's hard for me to feel better when I have you leaning over my shoulder all the time asking me how I'm feeling."
I wince. I have been hovering, but she can't blame me. If she was in my shoes, she would do the same.
She has done the same.
"I'll just come check on you later," I say, sliding off the side of the bed. She doesn't say anything, only closes her eyes as the barely-there sun fades behind the trees. I walk out, keeping the door open so I can hear if she needs me or if she starts having a mental breakdown.
She had those the first few nights. Hysteria filling her until she mumbled incoherent words. I admit I gave her enough drinks that she passed out. Those were rough nights.
I leave her bedroom, walking down the hall silently and toward my wing of the house. I hear the click of a door close and stop in my tracks, the lack of light in the house slightly freaking me out.
Who was that?
There hasn't been anyone here. I haven’t even noticed any ghosts or spirits. No more creaks above my room. I’ve listened, I’ve even snooped the halls at night.
Nothing.
Malik also hasn’t stopped home, not that I know of at least. I've checked. Nightly, actually. I've walked through each room to the point of memorizing where every piece of furniture and knickknack sits in this entire castle.
Malik hasn't been here. He hasn't even stepped foot in the house.
I tiptoe down the hall, ending in front of his door.
He's here. I can feel him.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. My messages to his friends have mostly gone unanswered. At first, Levi would message me back and let me know everything is fine and I needed to take care of my mom. But soon enough, those messages went dark.
Pressing my palm against the door, I swear I can feel the heat of him emanating from the other side.
Is he mad at me?
Does he still want me?
I haven’t been able to talk to him at all. I’ve had no way to contact him. I’ve been so desperate to hear his voice, to see his brown eyes swimming with the darkness only he possesses. I’ve wanted to touch him, even for the sake of touching him. I just want to make sure he’s okay, but I haven’t been able to do that.
Can we still be something? What is something?
What do I want? Would my mom even approve of it? Now that Samuel's gone, is it even taboo? Even in just the short amount of time we've known each other, I feel like we've grown so much.
There isso muchbetween us.
Does he still feel the way he did before?
Pressing my hand against the knob, I turn it, cracking the door open.
There he is.
The strong scent of marijuana hits my senses as I stare at him. He lies on the bed, his head cast toward the ceiling with a joint sitting between his plump lips.
I know that he notices me because his body stiffens slightly. Yet, he won’t look at me. Not even a glance.
"Malik," I breathe.
