Reminder:) ➪ I genuinly want feedback ♡
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♫ Have you no idea that you're in deep?
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep? ♫
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Amidst swirling chaos, an ally emerges, a guise unknown,
Fiery essence ignites, an ominous genesis is sown.
Bound on a journey, destined for a tragic bend,
In the dance of fate, the lines between enemy and ally blend.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
That night I found myself knocking on his door. I told myself it was the result of my curious mind, but the truth was much more unsettling. I didn't want to be alone that night. I knew my nightmares wouldn't be kind to me. They don't let me sleep most nights and I felt, after what occurred today, that they would be significantly worse.
For what I have gone through and for what I will go through, I allowed myself to crack open today, and regret has yet to make an appearance. I allowed myself to crumble in the face of the past, and the one person I never wanted to reveal my true state to watched me slip.
His reaction will stay with me for as long as I walk this earth: unfiltered concern with no judgment in sight. Those green orbs, a mix of darkness and light, didn't laugh or judge my lack of strength. Instead, they assured me that I was okay. But even the most talented liars can't hide the truth when faced with someone so accustomed to deceit, whose entire life is built on deceptive words. I'm also aware of the truth, knowing damn well I'm far from being okay.
Although, in this world, who is truly fine, my dear Xander? What pure souls do you know of who sleep soundly at night?
Although, the way he said the lie made me want to believe him. I wanted to believe him so badly, but my gut told me otherwise.
This dangerous man had a way with his words. Regardless of the circumstances, he always knew how to sound eloquently convincing. It was both a gift and a curse to those around him.
His voice possessed the seductive power to whisper untruths, caressing your doubts and soothing them with assurances of your well-being, just as it did today. Yet, at other times, it transformed into a sensuous instrument, weaving sinful promises of paradise and ecstasy, as though he were a deity incarnate, tempting you with every mellifluous word.
However, the undeniable truth remains that his words are drenched in deceit, and if you opt to believe him, the responsibility lies solely with you.
Therefore I can't bring myself to decide whether I made a wise or poor decision. What I am certain of in this moment is that I am not inclined to revisit the day that altered my life, both for the better and for the worse.
My nights are steeped in endless conversations with inner voices that offer no solace. Nightmares maintain a chilling grip on me, casting their shadows throughout the day. Even beneath the brightest sun, they linger, haunting my every step. They persist, unwavering, no matter how far I wander or how desperately I try to elude them. There's no escape. These tormentors are even more unsettling than those of my childhood. They continue to murmur, even when I'm wide awake. 'You are a monster,' they repeat. What's truly disheartening is my unwavering acceptance of their relentless refrain, my response always being the same, 'I know.'
Sometimes, I even catch myself staring at my hands, as if to ensure that the blood from that night isn't still smeared upon them. The fear and anxiety that cling to these nightmares are like stains, impervious to any attempts at cleansing. No matter how strenuously I endeavor, the stains persist, leaving me to ponder if there could be any trace of falsehood in the echoing whispers. Every time they return to haunt me, they reignite the deep-seated fear and worry that reside within my soul, serving as a stark reminder that there is no escape from the truths I have already embraced.
My thoughts are thankfully interrupted by Xander. He carefully opens the door, his toned body adorned with grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. I'm quite jealous of this man's ability to pull off everything he wears, but could not be more thankful at the moment for the distraction.
Although only his arms are one display, I can tell that what lies beneath is equally impressive. He wears his round, metal-rimmed glasses that I have only seen him with a handful of times. He also looks as if, he too, was kept awake by something preoccupying his mind. Like he too couldn't stop the gears from turning in his head.
"Rosalie?" He utters my name in a voice laced with confusion, but a hint of amusement is evident. He appears to be experiencing both anticipation and puzzlement, as though trying to unravel a mystery. His eyebrows are raised, as if he expects an answer that would bring him closer to understanding the situation. However, I wouldn't be able to conjure up a valid response even if I tried.
"I couldn't sleep," I say, as if that explained my unexpected presence at this hour.
"Me neither," he tells me while silently inviting me inside, closing the door behind me. "However, sleep is overrated anyways."
"Someone of your intellect should be aware of the complete inaccuracy of that statement." For some reason, I'm alarmed by his remark. Sleep is crucial; heaven knows how I wish for more of it.
"I'm aware," he says with a slight dip of his head, "but, to be fair, I've been doing just fine without it."
He stares at me for a moment, doing a once-over of my person. I'm suddenly feeling insecure about my choice of clothing for this midnight visit. I regret not having put on a bra before leaving. But his gaze doesn't linger out of respect. His eyes hold mine for a few seconds, making me feel exposed and self-conscious, before speaking.
"Is there a reason why you are gracing me with your presence at this time of night, Dubois?" He didn't say it in a sarcastic way, more so like he was actually expecting me, but was still somewhat surprised by this turn of events.
"Jason Hudson was murdered and his killer walks among us." I say, offering an explanation.
"Scared?"
"Never."
"Curious?"
"Of course."
"As am I." He responds. "I'm assuming you came to me because you know I'm smarter than you and-"
"-Shut up, Grayson, we both know you aren't smarter than me." I roll my eyes.
"I beg to differ."
"As long as you're begging," I retorted.
I saw a smirk form on his handsome face. One that promises mischief. It looked like heaven being offered by the Devil. It felt like seduction dripping in sin. He really is an unholy saint from hell. For instance, the way he moves his eyes up and down my body as I spoke, with an intensity that made me almost forget what I was saying.
"Okay, darling. When do we start?"
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