Piece by Piece

25. In the Middle of the Night

The cold air of night lessened the pain behind Davyn's eyes. After about two hours of slow walking in the dark, they reached the dorm rooms.

Millie lingered in front of the stairs leading to the front door, glancing at the night sky. She didn't seem eager to go inside. They were still holding hands.

"This is me," she finally said.

"Yes, obviously."

She turned to him, but there was a small smile on her face. "You can never hold back the snark, can you?"

"I'd rather die."

She, fortunately, laughed at this instead of getting all dark and serious. "I admit it would take away a bit of your overall charm. Though I do like it more when you direct it at others."

"My overall charm?" He quirked an eyebrow, trying to hide the pleasure he felt at her appreciating his snark.

"What? You must know you're overall charming. How else would you have drawn me to you?"

That was a very good question. He was still a little shocked that they'd gone from outright hating each other to... Well, this. Feeling so comfortable with her. Her presence pushing the migraine back. But it wasn't meant to last. This night was over and he had somewhere he needed to be. Somewhere that made his gut twist painfully.

"You should go up."

"And where are you going to go?"

He didn't know. He should go back to the hospital, but the mere thought of it sent his heart hammering against his chest. The noise was loud. It grated on his eardrums from the inside, making it impossible to escape. He just shrugged in answer.

"No, you're exhausted."

"What else is new?" He wished he hadn't let that slip, but he was so tired that he couldn't filter the words anymore.

"It would take you hours to get home or to the hospital!"

He shrugged again, very aware of that. Just like he was aware that a potential new walk would be him alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts of Ron, of his parents, of what he was supposed to do. Thoughts of Harkin and when he would finally reach out. Thoughts of Snitch Gravel and how to handle this big evil once it came to it.

The loneliness, the fear, and the guilt.

"Come up."

Her words snapped him out of it. "Excuse me?"

"My roommates are all back at the party. You're obviously exhausted and you need to sleep. Come up."

He huffed, biting back laughter. She didn't budge, her gaze hardened in determination. He faltered, realizing the laughter would have been bitter. This wasn't funny. It was maybe tragic that he wanted this so much but wouldn't let himself have it.

Millie took his hand and pulled him to the door. The moment they were in, she took a sharp turn towards the stairs, avoiding the reception desk altogether. Then, in what felt like moments, they were in front of her door and she was unlocking it.

The room was dark and empty, the curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open window. She continued to pull his hand, practically dragging him towards her bed in the corner.

"Seriously, Davyn," she mumbled. "You're..." She stopped and searched for a word, probably realizing that she'd used exhausted twice already.

It only made him smile the faintest bit. "Yes, yes, I'm fucked up."

She winced at his words but nudged him on the bed. "Come on, lie down."

The bossy note in her voice had him kicking his trainers off. She grabbed the zipper of his hoodie and forced it over his shoulder, coming much too close to him. She smelled like paint. But she managed to wrestle it off him without any input on his part, then nudged him again until he laid down on the bed.