We Who Are Jaded

Chapter Twenty Four

I dreamt of stolen loves, tormented souls and shadowed red eyes that night. I felt Kieran's chill as I reached for him, not wishing to suffer alone. I felt the pain as he shrugged me off and the rejection as he guided Anya off into the smog that once was my dreamland. Her eyes were haunting, thirsty and red. In their wake followed the shadows of Mandy,my father and Nate in shackles of a master even the imagings of my deepest slumber dare not conjure.

Though I could not see the monster, I felt him as I had never wished to feel him before.

I shuddered awake, reaching for breath and the safety of a dawned morning. Sweat clung to my arms, legs and face, a clamminess that welcomed the cool hand that brushed my forehead. I didn't need to open my eyes to know who was tending me and I was trapped in the conflict of what to feel.

Was joy or anxiety winning this fight?
"Shh, it was just a nightmare," Kieran soothed, brushing the wet tendrils from my face. I blinked, looking up into Kieran's calming eyes. His face was warm, awash with the happiness in his smile and the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Good morning Evans." He lowered his lips to kiss my damp forehead, not caring that it was sticky with perspiration. At the feel of his cold lips I shut my eyes and grimaced.

"Brain freeze," I murmured gently. Kieran's lips curved into a smile and he pulled away. I propped myself up onto my elbows, more than a little conscious of the provocative nature of my night shirt. It was not as though I had been expecting a caller.

"What are you doing in my bedroom, at this hour?" I said, squinting to look at his watch. "Mischief I presume." I kept my eyes lowered and I smirked. "Or perhaps boredom with your latest toy." My eyes flirted momentarily with his as I half teased, half challenged him.

Kieran was in no mood to humour me, a little hurt it seemed, a little guilty too.

"I thought, since I wasn't doing anything, I might drive you over to see your dad for a bit," Kieran explained. He'd met my bitterness with nothing more than kindness, making me question what was becoming of my humility.

Forget humility, what had become of me that I had been so conceded to be distracted from my father, my most beloved who was suffering in realms beyond where I could reach him?

"You mean it?" I questioned, overwhelmed by his compassion and thoughtfulness.

This was why I...

Love him Evans, can you really be so fickle?

"I just know how worried you are about him, you said as much the last time we spoke and I figured you might like a ride." Kieran bit his lip, his hand trailing the covers to brush my finger tips with his own. "And I recognised I hadn't been exactly attentive to you recently and I wanted to apologise and make up for it if you would allow me."

Kieran caught me off guard a little and stole the opportunity to steal his hand across my skin. My willingness an invitation, Kieran brought his lips to my neck. His skin was cool and invigorating as he ran his hands over my back, suddenly bare skin to bare skin. I couldn't help but shiver, our intimacy exciting and still so new.

"Your skin is so warm," Kieran choked, his lips now following the curve of my ear. "I miss that."

Warmth she could never and would never give him. This was my victory.

My victory, however, was not enough to distract from my awareness of how intimate I suddenly was with Kieran, how compromising this would have looked if my mother was to walk in.

"I miss the blush the used to colour my cheeks too," Kieran confessed, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone.

"Can't you blush?" I asked, realising it was never something that had occurred to me.