Chapter Twelve
Emery
The next time I wake, soft rays of morning light peek through the gap in the curtains. Unlike waking from the nightmare last night, it only takes a moment to piece everything togeth—
Shadow
My head whips to the end of the bed, but I relax slightly when I see the space empty.
An empty bowl sits on the table beside me, leftover from the soup Sebastian had given to me with just one word, “Eat.” A box of Panadol sits beside it with an empty glass of water.
I didn’t see him again after that, not that I actually left the room. I got the impression he didn’t want to see any more of me. The soup certainly wasn’t anything special, but it was warm and staved off the hunger that had been slowly clawing my stomach after not eating all day. Usually, a day without food wouldn’t affect me so much, but after surviving off stale muesli bars and the occasional piece of fruit now for… days? Weeks? I felt the effects even more.
It was never my plan to stay, and I knew the time would come where I’d need to leave for good,but even with as careful as I was with my money, it still wasn’t enough. I went as far as cutting my food down to the bare minimum in hopes I could stretch the cash a little further.
But here I am.
It was supposed to be my choice. That through all I had done, with how far I’d come, I would find the strength to pull myself away from Sebastian.
Seems I was only fooling myself.
Now, I have nothing. The last of my money all but gone, wasted on a train ticket I will never use.
It was only meant to be one time—a glimpse of the man who inadvertently saved my life. But I was naïve to think once would be enough, especially when one glance revealed a truth that broke my heart.
A truth I couldn’t prevent but desperately wanted to soothe. I saw past the cold mask he wore to the devastation hiding below—eyes the colour of the ocean but hardened with ice.
I wanted to take away his pain.
I understood that pain and so much more. And so each day, I was there, hoping some part of him, no matter how deep, knew I was there, that he wasn’t alone.
I was surrounded by darkness, but I’d bear the weight of his hurt if it would shine a light on the shadows consuming him.
Sighing, I sit up in bed. The door to the room is no longer open, and I’m pretty sure Shadow didn’t close it on his way out. It’s still early, but I know I’m not going to get any more sleep, not that I got much at all.
A shiver sneaks down my spine at the thought of my dream last night. Pushing the memory straight from my mind, I lift the covers and sit on the edge of the bed.
With the use of the bedside table, I push myself up. My ankle is still sore and swollen, but I’m able to stand on it for now, as long as I don’t put much pressure on it.
Slowly making my way into the bathroom, I stop in front of the large mirror. I don’t bother turning on the light, the large window at the end of the bathroom is letting in enough light to see, and I’d rather the image before me not become any clearer.
My hair lays in a tangled mess over my shoulders and breasts. Even in the low light, I can see the purple smudges under my eyes and the way my clothes are now a little too big.
Not wanting to analyse myself any longer, I turn on the tap to warm. It only takes a second to heat up, and I cup my hands under the running stream. I hiss when the water makes contact with the cuts and grazes on my palms.
I’d completely forgotten about them until now. I prod the skin gently. They aren’t too bad, something I easily blocked out with everything going on.
It’s not long before the sting disappears, and I splash the warm water on my face. I keep my hands pressed to my cheeks, eyes closed, just letting the water soak into my skin.
A couple of minutes pass before my hands fall away. Using the plush towel on the side of the vanity, I dry the remaining moisture from my face.
The bathroom is large and airy, mostly white with brass fixtures. A soft grey swirls through the white floor like marble, and a wall of glass separates the shower from the rest of the room, and God, do I want a shower. I was too exhausted even to consider it last night, not to mention I could barely stand by the end of it. The window takes up most of the far wall, mirroring the glass divider, which has me second-guessing the whole shower thing.Surely, no one can see in, right?
Deciding my need for a shower outweighs the risk, I grab my backpack from the room and return to the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind me. After I set my bag on the ground, I turn away from the mirror, peeling off my clothes and laying them on the bench.
The chill in the air has me curling my arms around myself, seeking warmth, but it’s not enough. I quickly unwrap my arms, open the glass shower door, and step inside. I can’t get to the taps fast enough, eager to turn them on and get warm.
Water flows from the large square rain head on the ceiling, cascading down on me.