Reality Check

Dragon Breath

Talk To Me (by Cavetown)

"Anxiety, tossing, turning in your sleep. Even if you run away, you still see them in your dreams . . ."

___

For a moment, there was utter silence.

Seeing Kiel Gnomenfoot laying there made Bethany sick to her stomach, and she couldn't say anything. For a beat, she could only stare at her friend, her eyes wide with fear. She couldn't hear anything aside from the blood pounding in her ears. Her heart was beating hard and fast against her chest, but she barely noticed it. Staring at him laying right there, she forgot how to breathe. There was ice in her veins, and her lungs seemed to have stopped working.

Breaking out of her reverie, she finally got her brain to work properly and forced her legs into action. Her movements felt as though they were doused in honey as she slowly opened the door. Her brain caught up with the rest of her a second too late, and before she knew it, she was sprinting towards Kiel. Once she made it to the street, she skidded to a halt and sunk to her knees, quickly lifting his head and placing it in her lap.

"Kiel!" she shouted, frantically shaking him by the shoulders. When his eyes didn't open right away, she started to hyperventilate. She'd had panic attacks before, usually when her mother had almost found all her hidden books beneath her bed. But this was entirely different. "Kiel, wake up! Wake up!"

Kiel's eyes slowly started to flutter open, and Bethany heaved a sigh of relief. She brought her hand to his face, checking for any sign of a fever. Weirdly, he was freezing cold. The only indication that he might be sick was the fact that he was shaking uncontrollably. What was going on? Why had he fainted? Was he okay?

"Oh, hey, Beth," Kiel whispered in a weak voice, his face much paler than usual. "How did I end up on the ground?"

She glared at him. "You just fainted, Kiel."

"Did I?" He tried to sit up, only for his eyes to go wide, and he fell back onto her lap. "I seem to be very dizzy for some reason. I must've been using magic. I don't remember." He smiled a little, but the clear fear in his eyes gave him away. "Remember how I always get tired after a huge spell in your world? I'm sure I used one. I told you I'm impressive. Now I'm impressive and tired. Magic sure is exhausting!"

"You've been tired for the past week. I don't think it's your magic," Bethany said quietly. "And you don't either, do you."

"No," he whispered, swallowing hard. "It was only my magic. It was a powerful spell, which is saying something for me, since I'm a powerful magician, and I —"

"Don't try to deny it," she snapped. "I didn't see you use any magic. You almost died in the middle of the street. That's not normal! We need to talk about this. Just tell me what —" She made a frustrated noise. "Just . . . please tell me what's been going on."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Nothing? Really, is that why you're laying on the ground right now?" He lifted his gaze to the sky, not responding. She bit her lip, anger and fear and confusion swirling in her. "How long have you been hiding this, whatever 'this' is?"

"Beth, can we please not talk about it —"

"How long?"

He let out a long sigh before looking back at her, a defeated expression on his face. "One week." It was then that she saw through his facade. He lacked the light in his eyes, and it made her heart hurt at the sight of him like this. He probably had never wanted her — or Owen — to see him this way.