Complicity [h.s]

16

I hum in response, my body curling up on the end of my bed in drunk exhaustion. I can't even bother to get changed out of this dress, I just want to sleep. I eventually hear my door shut to signify Zayn's exit. My mind spins when my eyes are shut, almost like my bed is being turned in circles. It's nauseating, but I'm too tired to really feel it.

God, I'm sweating.

I force my eyes open, lifting my head up from the end of the bed and hazily glancing over at my balcony doors. The moonlight perfectly leaks through the windowpane, trees gently swaying. My body heat is the only thing that forces me up, the thought of a breeze being too appetizing to ignore.

Up on my feet, I loosely stumble over to the balcony doors. I grab both of the historic gold handles and pull them open. My body is welcomed with the night breeze, chilling my skin but feeling so good.

Leaving the doors wide open, I stumble back over to my bed and collapse at the foot of it, shutting my eyes to feel the spins again. The breeze is quick to soothe my warmth, calming me down while the fresh air valleys into my lungs. The gentle whistle of the wind and swaying trees surrounding the estate brings tranquility to my mind. It's a nice change from the city noise.

"Aven..."

My body gently thrashes to get more comfortable, my dark mind swimming as I do it. 

"Aven..."

I open my heavy eyes like a sixth sense told me to. The first thing I catch sight of again is the open balcony doors in my dark bedroom. Everything is spinning. The white mesh curtains gently blow in their draft, my eyes staying half-open on the visual until slowly falling shut again. It feels like work to keep my eyes open now, I'm just that tired.

My mind falls weak with isolated thoughts of the most peculiar concepts dancing across my imagination. I visualize everything at once but nothing that I can remember in seconds pass. A carnival of lost realities all mend in my brain, confusing me into what is real and what is a figment of drunk illusions.

I open my eyes again but this time, I see a figure.

A silhouette from the moonlight; tall, broad, stationary. They stand in perfect frame of the open balcony doors, a person disguised as a ominous shadow.

I barely focus on it before shutting my eyes to the dizzy darkness of my intoxicated mind. Breathing in, breathing out. I feel burned into the bedding, knitted into the fibres like it's apart of me and I couldn't move if I wanted to. Curled in a ball on my side, half my face in the duvet—I'm melted in this spot.

Wait—what did I just see?

I shoot my eyes back open and launch upright on my bed, sucking in a sharp breath of life. Every cell in my body turns to ice cold water as I startle myself into the realization of what I just perceived.

My eyes jump to the balcony doors again, but the figure I saw, was gone.

My head flicks in all directions in the room while my hands white-knuckle the bedding. My heavy mind sways dizzy from the drinks, the exhaustion, and the startle. I can't understand if I'm awake or I'm dreaming. My eyes catch no one around the room, I'm alone. Did I imagine that figure? Was the silhouette real?

With every second that passes, I question if it really happened. I don't feel awake.

My heartbeat slows down, my hands gradually loosening their grip on the bedsheets. I glance down at my dress still on with the absence of my heels. My eyes lazily turn to the nightstand clock.

3:28

I've been asleep for an hour and a half? I thought I just laid down? I thought Zayn just brought me in here? I've been asleep already?