Valentine.

Here.

For the full experience, readers are encouraged to read with the provided music.

~Why can't I find peace when a caracal could sleep tonight?~

****

I lay shivering in bed on a frigid, stormy night. The heavy raindrops plaster against my bedroom window and loud claps of thunder echo across the sky, trembling the cottage.

I hug my quilt to my chest while wearily staring out the window and watching the soft pebbles of rain pelt against the glass surface. A bright flash of lightning illuminates the outline of a figure's mysterious shadow. They appear to be peering straight back at me through the glass. Then, instantly the light from the bolt fades, taking the shadow along with it and covering everything in a hollow darkness once more.

Frantically sitting up, I press my back into the headboard as panic rushes through me. Had I just imagined that? I had to have. My weary gaze remains fastened to the window; itching to get another glimpse at the stranger.

I sit frozen in place, not daring to move. The harsh sounds of my tremulous breaths fill the void of silence and 60 seconds pass.

Two minutes. Then four.

Six minutes pass.

At the eight-minute mark, I've calmed down enough to convince myself to relax. That my imagination had simply been toying with me. That what I'd seen had to have just been some ill-placed branch, or shrub. However, when I release a calming sigh, another loud boom echoes across the sky and a fluorescent jolt of lighting shortly follows but this time; I can see clear as day that the shadow had indeed belonged to a person. Not a branch. Not a tree-trunk. Not a bush. No silly, A man. A man I did not know. A man who is now no longer outside my window... but in my bedroom, quietly standing at the foot of my bed.

The flash swiftly ends once more bringing a complete darkness, and with it, a heightened sense of both fear and nausea. A smart move would be to reach over and flip on the lamp at my nightstand. An even smarter move would be to call for help. But I dare not move. I dare not even breathe. Perfectly still, I lie in my bed peering into the dark as my trembling hands grip the sheets so tightly, they tear.

Another minute passes and my stone grip on the bedding hasn't loosened in the slightest. My ears strain for any sounds but the only noises are the soft drops echoing against the cottage's roof. I begin to silently pray, hoping I was somehow trapped in a vivid dream. Hoping to jolt awake soon. This is really happening. There is a stranger in my room. Gathering the courage of a dozen heroes, I finally push myself to speak.

Before the words can even form on my lips, the chamber is once again illuminated by a luminescent bolt of lightning and as lights flush the room; I come face to face with a pair of striking bright eyes. There is one problem. This glare isn't the violet-purple shade that I've come to know so well. No. This icy glower is accompanied by eyes of ash and steel – a stare so intense, they could make the deepest of souls feel translucent. A stare so intense they could freeze a thousand fires. A stare so intense, the room loses a few more degrees.

Long, shiny black hair frames the chiseled pale face that is currently settled into a sinful grin. A small black rune of a lightning bolt shines bright under the unwanted visitor's right eye, and it shimmers so much, I swear it winks at me.

His enduring gaze intensifies, and our noses are mere centimeters apart as the lights go out again.

***

My eyes shoot open. "Get away from me!" I scream at the top of my lungs, as horrorcoerces my wide-eyed gaze around my surroundings. Soreness and pain consume my body as I brusquely try to bring myself up, gasping for air.

Within seconds, Valentine is next to me firmly yet gently, pinning down my thrashing body. "Shhhh, it's okay, no one is chasing you" he utters to me as consciousness slowly begins to envelop my body, my awareness slowly returning. I take several more deep breaths and hold my hand to my chest for reassurance that I am still alive.

He kneels down onto the floor beside the bed and wraps his arms around me. Instinctively, I wince – recalling the daunting images of blisters littering the surfaces of my skin as he lost further control of himself. But, when I glance down, my skin is completely unscathed. Every trace of the events from earlier erased. Every trace but the mental one. The one forever burned into my memory.

"It's okay" he whispers rubbing slow, careful circles around my back. My limbs still feel feeble and a fuzzy headache mercilessly buzzes its way through my head. I have many questions, but no energy to ask them. No energy to think. "You must rest, your body is still weak, petaloúda. "

Carefully moving again, he gently takes hold of my neck and guides my head back down to the soft pillow. Caressing my forehead, he continues to whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry petaloúda."

In a loop, the haunting stare from my dream plays tirelessly in my head, over and over again. Each time just as menacing. Each time just as soul-stirring. It sends a wave of violent shivers down my back. I gently sigh as Valentine moves the blanket up to cover my shaky frame, but after a few more moments, his hand leaves my forehead and I feel him turning to leave.

Maybe it's the cold. Maybe it's the dulling pain. Or maybe it's the fear of being consumed by more nightmares, but as he starts for the door, I reach out to him. 'Please don't leave' I echo in my mind. Knowing he is listening. He stops in his tracks and turns to look down at me. Deep sorrow and guilt fill his gaze as he immediately crosses over to the other side of the bed. Gently, he allows himself to climb in next to me and his strong hands promptly envelop me into a calming embrace.

He plants a soft kiss on my forehead, and I close my eyes again- this time allowing a peaceful slumber to gently wash its way over me. And though sleep comes easy, I can't help but question one of the last things he'd said.

No one is chasing you...