Anathema

He clasped his hand around hers and closed his eyes to the dark. His mouth twitched with the ghosts of words she didn't need to hear to understand. She sighed.

"Laine, please," she implored, her voice a harsh whisper. "Can you not do that?" His hazel eyes opened to her and he kissed her knuckles, letting her go as he spoke.

"It just makes me feel better." His words ran over each other sleepily and crumbled at the end of his sentence. She covered her mouth to stifle her smile, a fondness overflowing.

"I know," she murmured empathetically, "I just don't need prayers." He was quiet and guilt coated the inside of her mouth. Her hands crossed the space between them and fingers danced over his chest. "I have everything I need." With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, lips finding hers in the dark. A slow pucker released with a click of his tongue and she smiled, another kiss planted on her cheek as his own mouth pulled into a grin.

"Would it make you feel better if I called them 'good thoughts'?" he muttered close to her ear. She turned away and settled into the rook of his hips. They fit together perfectly.

"Maybe..." She smiled at the kiss that traced the edge of her ear.

To the left of the bed was a pair glass doors, bracketed and curtained with green. Artificial light streamed into the room through slits in the drapes, sharp bars of light painting the opposite wall. The busy street outside their apartment blared but the ruckus fell on deaf ears, the couple's coos and snickers containing all their attention.

Then, after they'd quieted and snugly fit together for a night of sleep, there was a noise. A muted tapping, a slow brush against the wall; all the noises trying desperately to disguise themselves as normal and accidental. A dog outside in the grass, the house shifting with the wind... Aisling's eyes popped open.

"Did you hear that?" she asked quietly, her voice choking with anxiety. She nudged Laine with the heel of her foot. Her ears strained with the quiet.

He grumbled, slowly nuzzling further into her mess of blonde and blue hair. "Hear what?" She exhaled slowly, trying to control her hammering heart.

"Someone's here," she breathed.

"It's probably a hobo." His voice faltered, threatening to fall back asleep and there was another sound, too small to penetrate his half slumber.

"Seriously. I'm gonna go check," she said as she lifted the heavy blanket from her body and flinging her legs over the edge of a mattress. She went to slide off the bed when a hand grabbed her arm.

"Lay down," he growled, "I'll go." He lifted from the bed, his bare chest reflecting the light sneaking in through the cracks in the curtains. "I'll telling you, it's a homele-"

The door burst open, wood splintering and showering them from across the room. Howls and cackles exploded into the space, lights flicking on in a burst.

"Honey! We're home!" There seemed to be dozens, crawling over and under each other. Laine jumped to Aisling, hands groping for her across the bed but he was subdued, fingers tipped in black pulling him away.

"Laine!" she shrieked. "Laine!" She jerked her head around looking for him, only his muffled screams meeting her pleas.

The man who spoke first stepped forward quickly and leaned with one knee on the bed as the rest laughed wildly. She darted away from him but was cut off, another of them meeting her with wide arms and a sharpened grin.

"We didn't disturb you, did we?" More loud laughter and he crawled towards her. He took her ankle in his hand and pulled her towards him. She screamed, her voice breaking with fear and the effort and he shook with amusement. He looked at her with wide dark eyes and a beastly, pointed smile, handsome and terrifying in his presence. Her hands were folded to her chest.