Death of a Nightingale

CHAPTER 25: EMPTY

At some point, Luke finally leaves. I'm dazed and only feel the cold air engulfing my body more fully. His weight is gone and I feel the relief of one deep, unencumbered breath. Sweat still sticks to my torso and tears to my cheeks. He kisses my lips, but I pretend to sleep through it.

Let him leave.

When the door closes, I feel better. I gulp. I've loved Luke for such a long time. He really knows every part of me and loves me regardless of any flaws. He's seen me become an adult. He was there when my father died and my life fell apart. And now, I can't even share with him what happened last night.

My eyes flutter open. I feel gross, whether from guilt or lying in sweat and not sleeping, I do not know.

After a shower, I feel better. I just stood there for almost forty minutes, letting the steaming water pummel me into a state of peace. Now I still feel guilty and awful, but also clean. I have no more sense of time. The hazy light outside doesn't help much either. Perpetual clouds make it hard to distinguish morning from noon and evening. My alarm clock reads 6 pm. The light starts already fading behind the thick clouds as the street lamps spark to life.

I lie back down. Exhaustion spreads through every bone and I drift off. A flash of an image spreads across my mind again. It's familiar. It's Grace's beautiful face in the palm of my hand and it slowly fades to dust.

I hear a knock. Somewhere distant. A knock?

I look around in the dream. Grace is gone. The dust glitters through the rays of light streaming in from the broken window. I look up. The fallen roof shows the spot where Grace fell.

Another knock. Much more incessant.

I'm still in my dream with no intention of waking. The dust whips around in the wind. Strange shapes and curves. It's pretty. It solidifies into a pair of ice-blue eyes. So familiar. They change to silver. My heart skips a beat. Excitement flushes through me from head to toe. Grace.

Another knock. Repeating.

Finally, I sit up straight and open my eyes. What is that sound? Then I realize. The window. The knock is real and coming from the window. A shiver runs down my spine and I know before I even turn my head. I don't believe it. I don't really dare to believe it. But the knocking continues. I rise to my bare feet in nothing but my towel. My wet hair is still heavy with water and not in its most curly shape.

There she is. Hovering on the roof like a cat. Almost casual. Her hood mostly covering her shiny, blonde tresses, but they peak through. She places her hand on the glass. I still don't believe it. My hand touches the same spot on the window on my side. The cold seeps into my skin. Startling.

"You sleep like the dead." She says and it sounds a little muffled through the glass.

"The irony." She smirks and I trace the shape of her fingers, leaving watery trails on the window.

She cocks her head to the side. Like a bird. It's beautiful and scary at the same time.

"Are you going to open? You're being rude."

I am still not sure whether this is part of my guilt-filled dream-state or reality.

"I saw you die." I state, remembering ash.

Grace smirks. "Actually, you saw me die twice and the second time was not very pleasant at all."

"I thought you were gone." I state and my voice breaks.

I study her ethereal face and the delicate column of her nose. My fingers trace her lips. Longing building within me. I know what they feel like. Taste like. But only on my own lips. Without a thought, I suck in my own bottom lip and heat flushes to my cheeks. Grace catches the change in my mood.