Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝘼𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧.
─── ⋆｡°✩ PART TWO Every time I closed my eyes, a cold, eerie sensation washed over me as if someone, or something, was watching me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and a deep pit of dread formed in the bottom of my stomach. I tried to brush it off, to convince myself that it was just my imagination, but the feeling only grew stronger as I lay there awake, staring up at the ceiling.
So I did what I always did when something was wrong: I went to Aaron.
I made my way to him, knocked at his door in the middle of the night, despite still being angry with him because he was keeping secrets.
As I stepped inside, I was greeted by the sight of Aaron still working at his desk, wearing a wrinkled suit. He looked tired and clearly hadn't had enough sleep last night and it wasn't looking like he was going to get sleep soon.
"What's wrong, Rome?" He asked, his voice soft, when he saw me get in.
He often called me Rome, it was a nickname he came up with when we were younger because my name didn't fit on a stone, he had painted on with acrylics when we were six.
"I had troubles with sleeping," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He looked at me with concern, his brow furrowing slightly.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should tell him about my strange paranoia. But at the same time, I felt an overwhelming need for support, for someone to tell me that everything was going to be okay, but didn't because I didn't want to sound like I was getting insane.
"What's wrong, Rome?" He repeated, his voice, a hint of worry in his voice.
"It's nothing," I finally said, trying to laugh it off. "Just the usual, you know? My mind gets the better of me sometimes."
Aaron knew me well, even better than I knew myself. And so he saw straight through my deflection, his gaze turning from concerned to understanding.
"It's okay to be scared, Rome," he said, his voice low and soothing. "You don't have to pretend with me."
"I just couldn't sleep. Can I sleep here?"
"Is everything okay?" Aaron got up from his seat and making his way to me.
"Can I just sleep here please?" I begged, not wanting to tell.
"Of course, I'll sleep on the couch-", he begins but I cut him off.
"No, no need, I will"
He sighs again and rolls his eyes at my stubbornness. There's a slight twinkle in his eyes though, telling me that he's not really annoyed.
"If you really want to sleep there, go ahead," he says, gesturing towards the couch.
Without a word, I climb onto the couch, burying myself into the soft cushions. And with a sigh of my own, I close my eyes and try to ignore the prickling feeling in the back of my mind. I lay on the couch, feeling the weight of my paranoia wash over me like a tidal wave. I wanted nothing more than to turn to Aaron and spill out all the fears that had kept me awake, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I lay there in silence, my thoughts racing a million miles an hour.
Aaron sat down next to me, trying to keep me company, but it was clear that he was worried about me. He tried to start a conversation, asking me about the book I read which I had stolen from Anderson's room and other unimportant things, but I could barely answer him.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing, trying to calm down and clear my mind. But it was no use. The feeling of being watched only grew stronger, pressing down on me like a physical weight.
"Thank you, Aaron," I whispered and hugged him, he was the only one I was fully nice too, the only one I could count on.
"You're welcome, Rome," he hugged me back tightly before I let go and closed my eyes.
Finally, after what felt like hours, I drifted off to sleep.
