Adore

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 | 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝘀

• S I M O N E •

There were several questions on my mind when my knuckles collided with the oak wooden door of Alexander's apartment. Like why I had chosen to walk almost a mile from my dorm to the attendant quarters and how I'd bravely ventured into the night with the silence from the administered curfew on campus— amongst other things.

The throbbing ache that settled over my head, prevented me from getting a wink of sleep—the images I'd rather bury deep into the depths of my subconscious, had a hand in stirring me awake with every attempt at a good night's rest. I leaned my forehead against the door, a wave of dizziness washing over me as I attempted to knock again.

Then the door abruptly swung open, sending me forward in an instant. But a pair of firm hands hold unto me before I can make an acquaintance with the soft carpet flooring. "Woah" the voice utters, the sound slipping into my distorted mind and remembering the source of the sultry tune belonging to my attendant. "Are you okay?" He asks, pulling my bent posture up and sliding the door shut once I regain my stance.

I shake my head, "No, I almost killed someone tonight" I say bluntly, prying my drooping eyes open as the excruciating pain in my brain goes up a notch.

He settles me on a couch, my eyes flickering to his now serious ones, roaming over my unstable frame with disapproval. "I see you attended one of the Langford parties. You're wasted." He states.

"I am, but I'm serious." I notice as he stands in front of me, the bareness of his chest and the lack of clothing albeit from the orange stripped briefs loosely settled around his waist. He seems to trace my gaze as his cheeks redden ever so slightly.

"Hold on a sec." He mutters, scampering into the confines of his room, a smile tugging at my lips at the heat that rushes to his supple cheeks. He emerged back into the living room almost immediately, shrugging on a plain gray t-shirt and sitting on the far end of the couch, turning towards me. "So, you mentioned almost killing someone?"

I heave a sigh as I recall all that had happened the past night, avoiding eye contact with him once I was done narrating. The room suddenly fell silent, despite the intermittent hum of the air conditioning system and the distant tick of the wall clock I could assume was situated in his bedroom.

He seemed to regard me with sullen eyes and I could feel the intensity of his stare as I fixed mine on my hands laid on my lap. I could feel the strain from the headache beating against my ears. I was too afraid to utter another word. Afraid that He'd declare me a nut case, or worse, ask to be reassigned to someone with less baggage. I mean how many students did he attend to that could see dead people as though they were still alive? Probably none.

"From what you're saying, you may be experiencing night terrors," He finally says, reaching for a desk filled with books beside the couch for a notebook and pen. "How vivid was it?"

"It felt too real" I say after a beat, blinking back tears as I'm reminded of the ordeal once more. "I could feel the things I was seeing, a well... the knife I picked up... it was all real."

He nods and writes all the information down, his gaze meeting mine once he's done. His posture straightened as he prepared to ask something he was clearly not comfortable asking. "What did you see exactly?"

I look down at my fingers, fiddling with the hem of my t-shirt idly. "It doesn't matter. And I don't feel like talking about it... what are night terrors anyway?"

"Night terrors are a severe case of parasomnia, an effect of the PTSD you must have suffered in the past." His weight shifts on the couch and he's facing me squarely now. "It's like having a nightmare in broad daylight, without having to sleep. It can be very dangerous if the proper steps are not taken."