Silent Period (A Paranormal Romance)

20. princess

It's so early that sunlight barely breaks through the blanket; my mind's muggy from sleep.

The air feels cold.

Wake up.

The tingle of fabric bites at my skin like needles.

I think I'm going to be sick.

You need to move.

Foreign pressure slants my seat. Someone's sitting next to me.

I glide my shivering fingertips over the side of my neck.

It's not him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

I'm hyperventilating.

Shit.

Lalo wouldn't hover near me without addressing his presence, yet whoever this is isn't moving or talking. I can't even hear their breath because mine is so loud.

The panicked sharpness tugs at the veins in my eyes and worsens until I press the back of my hand to my mouth and brace the other into a fist.

Even with the noise I'm making, the pressure beside me doesn't move. Resolve to normalize reminds me of reality: losing my shit can't help me. I should feel out the situation more before escalating it.

"Lalo?" it doesn't matter how frantic my face might look, as long as my voice is clear. "Hey, I think I just had a nightmare. Were you watching over me?"

There's a small hum in response, but the pitch is too high to be him.

My body tenses further, enough to feel the compressed ripple of muscle strain.

"Are you off again?" I fake a yawn and shuffle a bit while beneath my blanket. The presence reacts with moving, too, but doesn't seem to get any closer to me. As if it merely changed position.

How did you even get in here? Why are you doing this? 

Those are questions I'd rather ask at this point, but I can feel my frustration dwindling with every passing millisecond. I attempt to pull away the cover just enough to see the spot alongside me, and then whatever strength I have to remain calm evaporates without question or restraint. 

No amount of research and logical thinking can prepare you for seeing a threat inches away from you in the only home you've known. A threat that patiently waited for you to reveal yourself.

In a sliver of space between my cloth shield and the living room air, there's an eye. 

When the cover drifts off my body without my consent, I rush to catch and clutch the familiar fabric to my heart before hiding under it once more.

Is this really the kind of shit that happens after I start feeling optimistic? After I finally feel like life can change for the better?

WHAT GOD DID I PISS OFF? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?

I'm breathing so heavily again that it's shaking me. The heat from my exhales sinks back into my skin and waters my eyes. Every other part of me numbs as my face burns.

What am I supposed to do?

"Oh, no. Whatever will I do when she's under her blankey of protection?"

She speaks with a sharp, low yet feminine voice. The imprint of a hand ensnares my throat. Her hold isn't choking, but it succeeds in locking my movement before she uncovers my face. There's a subtle dizziness; the world tilts to and fro despite me being still, and thin rings of white pulse in my vision.