A Promise of Death

• 12 •

Desa groggily blinked her eyes open, rolling over on the couch. It was three in the morning if the clock on the cabinet was to be trusted. She sat up on the couch and looked around, it was dark and silent in the living room. She looked down over her body and noticed a blanket resting on her lap. She didn't remember getting one herself.

Was Aksel back? She must've slept through it. It was a miracle she had slept at all even if it was for a couple of hours. It was probably lack of sleep from the previous nights and her body's way of telling her she needed rest. Knowing sleep was probably not going to come again and she would spend the rest of the night just tossing and turning, Desa got up silently and looked down the hallway. Door to Aksel's room was closed. He was probably sleeping. It was an unusual feeling but she felt weird that she hadn't seen him for the whole day.

She lived alone, so it shouldn't have bothered her but it was as easy as breathing to get used to the presence of someone beside you. You were less prone to feeling alone when you woke up in the middle of the night. Like she did now. Even if Aksel was out of sight, she felt better by being close to someone.

Sighing she turned to the couch, grabbed the blanket and walked over to the window overlooking the harbour. She placed the blanket down on the windowsill and sat down. Hugging her knees to her chest, she tucked her chin on her arms and overlooked the scenery. It was quiet and calm with no one left on the street except for the row of different sized ships and boats slightly rocking to the lullaby of the soft waves. The blue silvery hue of the moonlight cast a shimmery glow across the sea's surface making out a serene picture.

The best part of insomnia was having the night all to herself. The stars were visible, the moon guided people to sleep, but for the daring, it was just another adventure calling. Desa leaned over and grabbed the wine bottle she had taken from one of the crates down stairs when no one was looking. She unscrewed the cork and brought the dark green bottle to her lips, chugging a substantial amount in a rather unladylike fashion. She didn't even taste the flavour of the sour grapes until her fourth sip and then placed the bottle between her legs.

Brushing her hair back from her face, she rested her head back against the wooden windowsill watching the sea. Her measly apartment had one view and it was the neighbours windows, as it was smack in the middle of the town. All she could do was count the different coloured bricks at the adjacent building to pass the time or what plant Mrs. Finnick decided to kill this month. The view from Aksel's house was considerably better.

She could get used to not sleeping with a view like this. Then chuckled silently to herself. Getting used to hiding at a target's house. Sure this was a great plan, Sontarro was going to be so fucking mad when he found out what she'd been doing. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to cast away the headache starting behind there. Not working in the least bit, she picked up the wine bottle again and drowned half the bottle. Wine was the least effective way to get drunk and one bottle was going to have little to no effect, definitely not enough to cause her to blackout and have a somewhat decent night.