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I hope we can get a lot done. I don’t want to think about it, but I’m pretty sure Trine’s well-being depends on it.
TRINE
After that, I can’t go back to sleep.
I’m afraid of dreams. I’m afraid of staying awake. Everything terrifies me. Every time I close my eyes, I see my own reflection; the way I stared at myself, the way it felt like my skin was melting. I wanted to tear it off. I still sort of do; wearing my skin right now feels oddly unpleasant in a way it never has before. I can feel it touch the sheets under me, the sweat on my skin making my hair stick to my forehead and my neck.
I only drift off to sleep when it’s light outside. I’m still in bed, under the covers, when I hear people talking outside my room. Bryony is in the kitchen with Mal and Rei, as if this was normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the middle of the night.
I lift the cover over my head and bury my head into my pillow. Maybe Bryony is right. Maybe the only thing wrong with me is that I’m spending time hanging out with insane people. When I was with the band, even after the exorcism, I felt relatively normal.
Sure, something weird had happened to me, but it was just a bit of artistic fodder. Now I live a super weird life, where people walk up with heads in their hands and my mom…
Fuck. I don’t even want to think about my mom. Every time I do, I feel sick to my stomach. I wish she’d told me everything she wanted to tell me before she died, but…I close my eyes tightly and try to focus on the sound of footsteps outside, on the quiet chatter coming from out there.
After some time has passed, I hear a knock on the door of my bedroom.
It takes some effort, but I manage to pull the sheets down away from my face and look at the door. Rei’s hand is peeking in, his fingers creeping into the frame of the door. I can recognize him from the black ring he wears on his index finger, from how soft his skin looks even from here, from the way his nails are perfectly manicured.
“Hi,” he says from just outside the door. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted coffee.”
I do want coffee. My stomach grumbles as I sit up in bed. “Yes,” I say. “I’d love coffee.”
“I can run out and get you some food too if you’d like,” he says, still from behind the cracked door.
“You can probably come in,” I say.
I hear him chuckle, his voice deep. Just having him around is grounding. Maybe that’s why I’m going crazy, though; the allure of all these people might be a little too much to bear. That’s possible, right? Sleeping with just one guy is usually complicated enough.
He pushes the door open and walks up to me. He sits on the edge of the bed and hands me a steaming hot cup of coffee. “Careful,” he says softly. “It’s hot.”
I smile at him as his fingertips touch mine. He’s wearing the black-rimmed glasses I think I first saw him in, his crisp white shirt a little creased, his jawline darkened with stubble. He normally looks more put together than this. Something about it scares me, but then again, he did just sleep on my floor. I don’t know what else I can expect.
“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip of the coffee. It’s really hot, but it’s exactly what I need. Rei smiles at me when I sigh and put it down. “Did you already have breakfast?”
“Yes,” he says. “Your roommate is a solid cook.”
I laugh quietly. “Yeah, I guess one of us has to be.”
He smiles at me. “Are you hungry?”
I shrug. “Not really. I don’t usually wake up hungry when I don’t sleep well.”
“And I assume you haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
“When I do, I always have crazy dreams,” I say, my eyes flitting toward the door. I can hear Mal and Bryony laughing in the kitchen and my stomach drops.
“Is he always in them?”
“Not always, no,” I reply. “But he’s in them most of the time.”
“Even now that he’s around?” he asks softly. “Like physically?”
I nod, closing my eyes. “That hasn’t changed. But I don’t talk to him in my dreams anymore. He’s just there, watching, waiting. I don’t know what he’s waiting for.”
He considers that for a second. “Have you thought about just asking him? Considering he’s in your apartment and all.”
“I have no idea how I would phrase it, and in any case, what could he possibly say that I don’t already know? He’s watching. He’s protecting. There are other demons inside me. It’s not going to be new information, and I guess there’s a part of me that already knows I need to get used to it, but it’s weird. He’s right here but he can still see how I’m feeling. It’s fucking weird. Makes me feel vulnerable in a way I’m not used to,” I ask, finishing my coffee and handing the empty mug back to him. “Thank you. I really needed that.”
