Devoid [Bruno Mars]

Chapter eight

Chapter eight

Holding my breath, I stared at the two shadows of Bruno's feet from the strip of light underneath the door. He was lingering outside. Was he going to knock and demand to come in? To speak to me? I waited. It was a long time before he walked away, the shadows disappearing. I didn't feel relieved, just guilty. The situation could have been handled differently. Better, at least, on my part. But apparently handling things well was not my expertise.

Kicking off my heels and keeping my dress on, I crawled underneath the duvet of my bed and sank into darkness before having my usual warm glass of regret and self-loathing.

Though their eyes were vacant of pupils, the malevolence in them were still discernible, engendering crashing waves of fear.

The heat is what hit me first. It singed my skin until it felt like it was peeling. The flames rose up in front of me, making me spring backwards every time a new one roared to claw the unseen sky. The inferno ringed around me, closing in. It was hard to breathe. I knew it was the Incurses, controlling the fire that threatened to consume me, their laughter dark and loud, seeming to echo everywhere.

But no.

When I turned around in attempt to escape the orange and red blaze, my mouth opened to a soundless scream.

It was Bruno who was consumed by the flames. 

It was he, who the Incurses were laughing at.

*

The nightmare jarred me awake. It was dark in the hotel room. I looked at the nightstand. 

5:07am.

I had no miss calls or text messages. I sighed, tossing my phone back on the night stand.

I dragged myself to the bathroom then turned on the shower. I stripped out of my dress and instead of using hot water, used cold. College made me used to it. And I was sweating.

After showering, I pulled on some pajamas and climbed back into bed, falling in and out of consciousness for hours until a rapid knocking kept me from falling again. The room was bright with morning light. And still empty.

Still a little dazed, I opened the door without checking it. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Bruno?”

He stood before me in a black and yellow Nirvana shirt that stood stark against his bronze skin. “Hey,” he greeted softly, smiling faintly. “I—sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?”

I threw my arms around him. It caught him by surprise and he stumbled a little. “Woah there,” he chuckled softly, instantly wrapping his arms around my waist. “God Adrian,” his face rested on my hair. “it's been too damn long.”

Was this how he felt last night? I swore myself that I was dreaming as we held each other tighter. I forgot how wonderful his arms felt and buried myself into them. His chest was firmer than I expected, his heart beating underneath all the hardness. I laid my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. The dark hallway flashed behind my eyelids and a feeling I couldn't interpret sparked inside of me.

I pulled away suddenly, becoming aware. “I'm sorry.”

“No.” He stepped forward quickly, raising his arms as if to reach out to me. “Don't be. It was just a hug.” When I said nothing he bobbed his head forward. “Why don't we go inside?

I agreed reluctantly. When we headed inside I said, “I want to apologize, for last night.” And then stopped to face him, inhaling the faint scent that flowed in the air. “Someone smells like alcohol.”