Ten & Levan

34. Thirty Four

LEVAN

I'm suspended between the confusing states of consciousness and sleep per usual; it's as if the weirdest, most reluctant ideas of my brain are floating around me, drooling down my mouth, flooding my room. Even though none of them create unbearable, insufferable noise, yet I wish they'd just let me sleep.

I contemplate opening my eyes and giving into it. Usually, I would survive this disruption and keep hanging, dream transparently, and wake up when I hear the birds. Tonight, the constant buzz of my thoughts has me clenching my teeth and bile rising up my throat. I concentrate on my short puffs of breath and realize that if I don't start taking deep breaths soon enough, the rocks in my chest would explode. And then, to top it all, a weird thud sound starts to go off in the back of my heart.

It's after three or four of such thuds that I realize they're coming from my window. Sudden consciousness hits me in my face and I'm hyperaware of the sweat running down my back even in the mildly cold weather as well the sharp pain that runs down my neck to my shoulder blades. I stumble to the window somehow, unable to comprehend the rocks threatening to break through the glass of the window frame.

And there she is, at one in the morning, throwing rocks at my window; Tenerife.

Several minutes later, I'm trying to make no sound as I sneak out of the house, hastily pulling on a jacket. Ten is shriveled up under the blanket she calls a jacket, she's also chattering her teeth for special effects.

"You aren't really that cold, are you?" I question her, releasing a visible breath into the air. She looks up at me and presses her lips together in an order to hide her smile.

I'm surprised, yes, but not by the fact that Ten is here, and Ten is here at this time, or even that she might just have come to see me. Oh no, I'm surprised at this discovery...that I'm not surprised.

"No I'm not, Levan. I guess you're getting the hang of my acting..." she winks at me, making the inside of my brain fall into a clutter. "Come on now, we've a plan to take care of," she says, grabbing my hand and starting to pull me back to her car.

"What? Now?" I mutter, careful to not wake the neighborhood up with the level of panic I'm starting to feel.

"Yes, now, we're going on date number two," she announces softly to me when she has successfully pushed me in the passengers' seat. I try to absorb her and the words that spill out of her perfect mouth as she walks around car and settles down in her seat.

"But where are we going?" I ask her, realizing that the backseat of the car is loaded; there's no room for all that stuff to breathe. But what the hell is all of it?

She only smirks at me and I don't know what that means for me, so I just gulp. She then turns the key and the car purrs timidly to life. It isn't as noisy as my truck, I'm glad. But I keep staring at her for an answer even when we're racing up empty streets.

Rolling her eyes, she gives up.

"Have you ever camped out in the woods, Number Eleven?"

***

An hour later, the small tent Ten brought along has been set up under her expert supervision, pillows and blankets thrown in, and a fire crafted a few feet away; enough to keep the surroundings relatively warm.

"And now we're all set!" chimes Ten, admiring the little tent she says she's had since she was only a little girl. Of course, little girls have little tents.

"I'm not going to fit inside that..." I tell her, feeling overly aware of my long limbs and giant thoughts.

Ten's shoulders slump and she gives me a look, which is supposed to warn me.

"Believe me, you are. It's a lot bigger on the inside; just like it's come of a Harry Potter movie," she claps her hands together then and crawls inside. "So snug and warm!" she sighs dramatically so I'm able to hear it, "come on in now, Levan, don't you worry..."

I look around before I crawl into the tent too. Inside, I forget that we're surrounded by great gray trees and unknown horrors of the greed night. There's a blanket underneath us; working as a mattress and another blanket to protect us from the chill being fed to the trees by the sea. Oh yes, this is snug and warm, I think to myself. Also, The fire burning right outside sheds enough light for me to be able to look at Ten's face; her small, proportionate, beautiful face. But that's just a bonus.

Ten instantly wraps the blanket around us so that it can start warming us up quicker. She produces a thick book from somewhere under the blanket, closes the distance between us until we're so close that she's almost out of the focus of my eyes, and starts reading it silently, snuggled up against me. I swallow the lump that shot up my throat down as I watch her.

And it feels like a whole century is passing by before us as she tries to read herself to sleep. She's breathing so close to me that I've forgotten how to breathe; I'm only surviving on the breaths she's taking. Somewhere in between all of it, she rests her head on my chest, making my heart thud louder, I try so hard to suppress it but it only grows. Are all hearts so fond of growing when someone's so close?

An era goes by before she looks up at me through her lashes, a frown appears instantly on her previously relaxed face.

"Are you not sleepy? It's almost two-thirty," she tells me, checking her phone and keeping the book aside.

"I don't...I can't sleep."

"Oh, why?" she ask me, turning so that her head is resting on my shoulder. I take a deep breath. I've told Ten a lot of things, so why not one more, I entertain the thought before I uncontrollably spill it out. "Wait, you're not a vampire, right?" she says, cocking her head back a little and making me burst into small fits of laughter. She smiles.

"No, I most certainly am not..." I tell her, "I-I can't sleep at night." Her smile fades a little.

"Then what do you do all night?"

"Sometimes I write, sometimes I just lay there with my eyes closed, but I'm somewhat aware of my surroundings. It's like hanging in the middle of...nothing," I explain.

"Insomnia," she concludes, her voice is a low whisper, invisible even. I nod. "Don't you get tired?" she asks me, sounding concerned, "How do you get through the day?"

I shrug, "like a vampire," I tell her. She giggles, her eyes mooning.

"But you need to sleep, it's essential for the date," she tells me, pursing her mouth into a grim line. I thought the date was about camping together, but whatever floats her boat, I tell myself.

"Wait, I'll read to you," she mutters, "it helps." She produces her book again and clears her throat; dramatic as always.

"It's Waves, by Virginia Woolf," she tells me proudly, shuffling closer until her head is nestled under my chin. I frown to myself subliminally, it's so new, and yet I've never been more at ease. It's a cliché thing to say, but it's as if I've known her for longer than a bunch of months. It's closer to an eternity.

And then she begins to read...