What Lay in the Dark

7. Harsh Reality

Egan nodded. "Remember, you don't need to worry about any of that now, okay?" 

I nodded.  

"Hey," Egan pulled me into a hug. "You're here now," he spoke into my ear. "You don't need to worry about anything that happened in Ireland anymore. That part of your life is over." 

Once again, I woke up in Egan's bed. I really needed to learn how to go home at night.  

Egan's arms were around me and I looked up to find him still asleep. I tried to look over him to where the clock was, but his arms tightened. I looked back at him, but he was still asleep. I smiled and lay my head back down. I didn't understand how I could be this comfortable with him.  

I thought back to Egan's small gestures last night. Taking my hand, touching my hair, the hug. Was it possible that Egan actually felt a slight bit of affection for me? Sighing, I shook my head. That was too much to hope for.  

He woke up a few minutes later. "What's the time?" he groaned.  

"I don't know."  

Egan loosened his arms and rolled over to see the clock. "It's seven." As he spoke, he rolled back to look at me. "You need to get up?" 

I nodded. "I should probably go home and change my clothes. I've been wearing these for too long." 

Egan nodded, and I forced myself to get up, sighing. Egan followed suit. 

"Will you be okay?" he asked. "On your own?" 

I smiled. "I'll be fine." 

Egan nodded. 

"I'll see you later then," I murmured. 

Egan nodded again and followed me to the front door. He waved goodbye before disappearing back inside. I smiled and began walking. 

Thankfully, my house wasn't too far from Egan's; I was there in no time. I took a shower and slipped into some fresh clothes before I ate breakfast. Feeling better, I was ready to face the day and work. 

I opened the front door and was just about to head out when I turned and looked into the house. I wasn't sure why. I was rooted to the spot. It was as though a part of me didn't want to leave, but I didn't understand it. When the smell of smoke filled my nostrils I didn't twig. I just thought it was strange and stood still, staring at my table. 

"Ailia?" I heard Egan's voice. "I just got a call from Samuel. Are you alright?" Egan walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. Subconsciously, I put my finger to his lips. 

"Why does it smell like smoke?" he sniffed the air and started wandering through the house. It never registered that I should be helping him find the source of the fire. I still stood there, dazed. 

"Ailia?" Egan called, returning. "Your house is on fire." 

"It's okay, it won't hurt us," my voice sounded distant, alien. I didn't feel my mouth form the words, but knew I said them. 

"Yes, it will, we've got to get out of here."  

"No. It's nice here." I felt the room heat up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the yellow-orange glow. None of it really seemed important. 

"Ailia?"  

I stared at the table. The flames drew close, licking at everything they could find. 

"Ailia! Look at me!" Egan commanded, turning my face towards him. Suddenly I was staring into something deep and green, peaceful, like the moss on the trees in the forest. But there was something else. Urgency. Desperation. "Ailia!"