Forbidden Tragedies

Chapter 14

-Kira-

I eventually decided to listen to what he said... In terms of listening for myself to the phone during the night.

For just a night so I could solidify things.

It wasn't that I didn't believe what Lucien had said. I did. It was instead that it didn't mix well with the fact that I didn't want to believe it, and I knew that I'd obsess over it and just embarrass myself further until I saw it for myself.

So for just tonight, I set myself up on the couch in his room. So I could face this crushing disappointment point blank and have absolutely no reason to think anything different.

I needed my brain to stop obsessing and move on so I could focus on my next plan of action. So I could figure something else out as to what to do.

If there was anything left...

So, grabbing the pillow I'd become accustomed to, and the weighted blanket from the bed I slept in, I set myself up nicely on the couch with nothing but a few odd looks from him.

I still didn't think I had it in me to talk about it, and luckily he didn't question me, just retired behind those curtains and killed the light, leaving me to my own devices with only the light of the fire to guide my sight.

Thankfully the couch was rather long. Long enough in both length and width for me to lounge comfortably and still have a decent amount of room to stretch.

It wasn't nearly as comfortable as the bed, but I saw that coming. It helped me stay awake in fleeting hope that something would happen.

I knew it wouldn't, and yet still there I lay facing the ceiling, letting that fact sink deeper in deeper until it became undeniable.

The blanket ended up getting bunched at my feet. The weight on top of the heat of the nearby fire made it too much.

Too much heat, too much disappointment, too much to handle all at once, and yet somehow sleep managed to still creep its way over me in my weakness after a few hours.

When I woke up, it wasn't to sunlight or god forbid the phone, but to movement.

To arms easing their way under me. One scooping my back and the other my knees before the couch fell away.

It took a moment, and a few quiet steps to process, but when it did, the feeling sparked up a familiar panic and lead my body to move before I could even get my eyes to open.

It was a visceral, instinctive reaction. One built from years of childhood memories of my father taking me from my sleep just like this, and down into the basement to deal in his trades that involved fangs in my skin. All while shushing me and whispering to me that it was all going to be okay.

"Stop," The word passed my lips in no more than a quiet, curt exhale.

I felt the hands tighten the moment I began to shift and thrash, blinking into my senses.

My hands found and pressed against the other body with all the strength I could manage, pressing and writhing in ways that only had these hands tightening their hold on me.

Finally, my eyes could make out silhouettes in the darkness, and with my full consciousness followed my full strength.

Which gave me my goal of pushing hard enough to escape these arms.

I landed on my ass with a thud, my elbows managing to save my head from the same fate.

I groaned through the dull pain, shooting my eyes upward toward the foe as quickly as I could.