20. Night Terror

Hearing footsteps by my bed startled me awake.

It certainly couldn't have been Greyson; he never came into my room uninvited. And it couldn't be Leah, because she had left for the city earlier that evening, to return her mother's manuscript before nightfall - the one Francis had dropped off so unexpectedly.

Something moved beside me, but I couldn't quite see what it was.

The lights in my bedroom were turned off. Everything was enveloped in darkness, which was unusual for me. At night, I preferred to have perfect vision when I opened my eyes. Ergo, I never went to sleep without a nightlight, just in case something like this happened.

What had made that noise? And why were the lights turned off?

Under any other circumstances, I would have lunged at the light-switch, the moment I opened my eyes... but the sight of someone standing in the darkest corner of my room – loitering just beside the door - kept me frozen in place.

A chill ran down my spine as I shifted in my bed, making the mattress creak with my weight; It appeared I had company.

The figure seemed human. But it wasn't.

Rather, it was a mix between man and spirit. Something that found a way to thrive beyond dust and stone, living without blood or bone.

This shadowy figure was tall, taller than Greyson in fact, with a predatory presence that made my blood turn glacial cold. My stomach clenched as I watched it swaying slightly from side to side. It was inching towards me like something out of an uncanny valley handbook - slow and distorted, like a creepy marionette. It had a human shape, with long fingers, but no other visible distinctive features - not only because it was surrounded by shadows, but because it was the shadow itself.

Despite trying to dismiss the creature as a mere anxiety-induced nightmare, my heart sank the moment the figure's convulsed closer to me, like a glitch. I fell back into my mattress when it suddenly appeared at the foot of my bed. Slowly, it wrapped its ugly fingers around the bed post and just watched me wriggle with fear.

I pleaded with myself to wake up, as my body sunk deeper and deeper against the mattress. It was as if someone was sitting on my chest, weighing me down, and choking the air out of me. I couldn't shake the feeling away, no matter how hard I tried. My body was made of stone, and there was no way for me to run away from this ungodly demon. All I could do was stare helplessly at the entity, wishing that the chocking sensation would end, and that I could shriek loudly for someone to come save me.

As the ghostly figure loomed over my exposed feet, I tried to gather up all my remaining strength and scream for help, but no sound breached my lips. As a last resort, I mentally cried out, hoping that, despite our agreement to stay out of my thoughts, Greyson would miraculously hear me.

The shadowy figure twitched, and suddenly it was materializing just beyond my line of sight, to my outmost right. The dark blob peaked at me from the side of the bed, misshapen and grotesque. Unable to turn my head, I watched it from my periphery and noticed that the proportions of its face were all wrong. The face kept changing shape, like numerous parasites under a microscope. It made a shiver crawl up my spine, and a heavy lump settle in the middle of my throat.

Unable to stare at this monstrosity any longer, I closed my eyes. And as the pressure on my chest tugged at my last breath, I felt a small tear of desperation tumble down my cheek.

Greyson, please... I need you.

Finally, the sound of his voice fizzled into my mind like a spark, Ashlyn? and I never thought I'd be this ecstatic to hear it. What's wrong?

I can't breathe! I informed him, feeling my eyes roll in the back of my head. Help me, I can't breathe...

My bedroom door slammed opened. Get away from her. I'd never heard his voice sound like that: guttural and commending. He sounded furious. Now!

A picture frame fell from the wall, as my throat constricted to a complete close. I felt my skin turning blue, as the enraged entity made the walls shudder around me.

I said GET OUT, Greyson ordered with a snarl.

With the flick of his finger, the lights above me turned on, and every sliver of darkness dissipated into nothing.

The entity was nowhere to be seen.

Throwing myself into a fiddle position, I wheezed an exhale and gasped for a second inhale before I could complete my first. I gasped and gasped and coughed, until I tasted blood in the back of my throat.

"Ashlyn." He sounded troubled as he reached for me. "Hey... Hey, it's okay."

"Greyson!" I retorted, as if I was drowning and desperate for a lifebuoy. I reached for him and grabbed on for dear life. "Greyson."

"I'm here." Greyson said softly, wrapping his arms around me without hesitation. "I got you. You're safe."

Clawing at his arms, I struggled to catch my breath. "It's going to come back -" I coughed. "It's going to be back, I know it."

"Shh," he whispered quietly into my hair, holding me close to him. "Don't worry, I won't let it hurt you again. You're safe."

"I want to leave." I shook my head. "I need to leave this place!" My breath hitched as he rested a hand on my cheek trying to make me look at him. I couldn't. I shook my head. "I need to leave!"\

"It's gone, Ashlyn." Instead of listening to him, I forced my eyes shut and shook my head frantically, over and over. "Ashlyn, listen to me." His voice was like silk against my ears. He scooped me up into a seating position beside him, and cocked his head to the side. Seeking my stare, he waited until my gaze lifted, and settled onto his. "It's gone, and it can't hurt you anymore. I won't let it come in contact with you again, I promise."

The sincerity in his gaze, was able to calm me only slightly.

"You're safe," he pressed, and my brittle composure shattered.

Letting my face collapsed on his chest, I began to cry uncontrollably. Unapologetically, I burying my face into the soft texture of his shirt and pulled him closer, as if his arms could hide me from the world. I crumble the fabric like paper under my grip and kept my eyes firmly shut.

"It was strangling me." My voice was shaky and raw, as I continued to re-live what had just happened to me. "It wanted to see the fear in my eyes. It wanted to hurt me."

"Let it try to do that again, and we'll see what happens," he murmured, venom coating his words. "You're safe now," he concluded with calm affection, as he wrapped his arms tighter around me. "There is no need to cry."

His body was tense against mine. He wasn't used to being someone's anchor, but I wasn't sure I could let go and give him space just yet. I was too afraid of what might happen if I withdrew from his hold - I would surely drown inside my rising panic.

"Please don't let me go," I sobbed against his chest, selfishly clinging to him and disregarding his evident discomfort. "Don't leave me alone. Not yet."

"I'm not going anywhere," Greyson said, as his hands soothed down my back. "You don't even need to ask."

The tension in his body swiftly diminished then, making me question whether he had familiarising himself this quickly to my touch. His body molded into mine, as if this emotional embrace was normal occurrence between us. If I wasn't so flustered, I would be questioning him about it. It had only taken him a few seconds to shove away any discomfort he had been harbouring. Was that even possible?

"You're shaking," he commented, resting a hand against my ear. It acted like some kind of sensory deprivation and I was thankful for it. "Why?"

"What if I open my eyes and it's staring back at me." I wobbled out, finding comfort in the cocoon of his limbs. I hadn't noticed until now, but even our legs were tangled up together. It wasn't necessarily the most comfortable position, but I refused to move, in fear that the adjustment would force me to inch away from him. "What if the spirit is waiting for an opportunity to attack me again?"

"I promise nothing is going to be staring back at you, if you open your eyes," he told me, raking his fingers against my scalp. "Try it."

"I want to." My eyes welled up with tears and my cries intensified. "But I don't think I can."

His hand moved from my ear and his breath warmed my temple as he whispered: "Let me help."

Just then, a certain quietness washed over me. As if I had been sedated, my body began to turn limp. He didn't say a word, not a single word. He just held me until my cries turned into mere sobs, and finally into nothing but silence. This emotion-altering sensation, I realised, was familiar to me. Many weeks ago, back when I was hiding inside the Filing Cabinet, resting inside a stupid cardboard box, I had felt that same tranquil sensation swell inside my body. I still had no idea how Greyson had managed to control my mind like he was now, and I still questioned how it was even possible. I didn't know whether it was safe either, to allow him to use this technique on me, but in my moment of weakness, I welcomed the way my anxiety seemed to float into oblivion. Whatever the side effect may be, I was willing to risk it today, just to keep my fears at bay.

"Better?"

I sighed. "Much. Thank you."

"I'm sorry, I almost didn't hear you call my name earlier." He shifted under me and moved into a more comfortable position. My body, like glue to paper, followed his every move. "My mind was distracted by something else," he admitted against the crown of my head.

The realisation that, in this new position, I could hear the subtle tempo of his heartbeat, made sparks ignite in my stomach. "It's okay," I said, sounding more at ease. He smelled of lavender with a hint of vanilla; The mixture between the laundry soap and the body soap we used every week. "You're with me now."

Greyson tucked my forehead under his chin, and my heart blossomed. His hand affectionately brushed up and down my loose hair, and I tried to convince my soul that it was a simple and friendly encouragement to keep myself calm. Nothing more.

Unconcerned with giving him the wrong impression, I peeled my hands from his shirt and wrapped my arms around his waist. I tucked my face just below his neck and took a deep inhale, marvelling at the floral scent of him. My nose resting against his clavicle, I could feel him swallow, as if he were getting nervous by how close I had gotten.

I sniffled. "By the way, I'm sorry," I said, wiping away the drying tears from my cheeks.

"For what?"

"Well, for one, I got your shirt all dirty," I said, snorting.

He looked down at the splotches of tears on his white shirt and huffed a laugh. I felt his breath against my cheek. This closeness was driving my heart mad, but I welcoming the thrill, it distracted me from the danger that lived within these walls. "I really couldn't care less about these clothes." My stomach fluttered as he pulled me back against him, caging me again with his hold. "And what else are you sorry for?"

I pressed my ear against his beating heart and I noticed how strong and steady it was. My fingertips dug into his hips, it reminded me that he was real, and that he was healthy. "For crying in general. I hate showing my weaknesses, or my feelings. I feel like a burden when people have to take care of me."

He loosed a breath. "You'll never be a burden to me."

I felt another round of tears on the verge of breaking free. "Damn it. Sorry." I brought a hand to my forehead and hid my face from view. "You should leave before I soak your shirt again."

He scoffed. "Was that an order?"

"No!" I looked up, baffled. I never meant to give him an order. I was afraid I had wrongfully expressed myself, until I found him smirking down at me. "Wait, was that some sort of joke? Are you.... teasing me?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Perhaps."

"Oh."

His eyes softened, and I averted my eyes before I could convince myself that his warm heavy-lid stare had been full of affection. He was simply amused, there was no underlining feelings hidden under the surface. There couldn't be. And why would there be?

"Don't do that," I whined, absently fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. "I was scared you were actually offended."

The soothing rise and fall of his chest, made me very aware of him. I bit my lip, trying to focus on anything other than the shapes of his torso, or the muscles tensing just beneath my fingertips.

"Should I refrain from joking around in the future?" He asked finally, his voice hoarse.

My eyes lifted, and a warm liquid pooled in my chest when I noticed his gaze lingered on my lips. Something told me that he was fighting against the desire to lean in and kiss me. But that couldn't be right... could it?

'The future', he says. There would be no future for us.

Letting go of his shirt, I dragged my gaze away from his. "I was just saying that if you want to go back to your room, you can," I said, promptly returning my head atop his chest. He sighed. "All I'm saying is that, despite my dramatic outburst earlier, you really don't have to stay in this room with me. That is, if you don't want to."

"Right." He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself away from the headboard. "Okay."

Panic set in. He was actually leaving? I looked up at him, terrified.

"Kidding." He chuckled under his breath and returned to my side. "I have no desire to leave, Ashlyn."

I slapped his arm and scoffed. "That was not funny!"

He rears back, smile fading. Ice surged in my blood, and my stomach flipped in horrible shame.

"Oh, god." I gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to slap you! It was meant to be part of this friendly banter. I didn't mean to hurt you! D-Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't," he said honestly. He frowned, reaching up and brushing my hair away from my face. I gulped, as he seemed to pondered over my frantic expression. "I'm sorry I made you think otherwise. It just took me by surprise. I'm still trying to comprehend human behavior."

His face was so close. He looked down at my lips and my chest ceased. He was looking at my lips again; what did it mean?

"What is it?" I asked, my voice a bit too soft.

An agonising expression molded over his features, he looked torn as his breath fluttered across my cheek. Everything fell away, as my eyes drifted to his mouth in turn.

"Ashlyn...I, um..." His gaze lifted. His face was so close, I could see every eyelash above his obsidian stare.

I swallowed, feeling heat pool the inside of my stomach. "Yeah?" I barely recognised my own voice anymore.

God, please don't tell me you like me. If you do I don't think I'll ever be able to let you go. And I have to be able to let you go. You need to leave this planet. I can't keep you here with me. There is no future for us.

I don't know if he could hear my thoughts but I was hoping he could at the very least read the words in my stare. I couldn't get attached and hurt my chances of getting over the loss of him. I needed to be okay with losing him.

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, as if trying to concentrate solely on his next words: "I think I finally made contact with my alien family."

A heavy breath wooshed out of my lungs. "You what?"

No. It was too soon.

"Just a few minutes before you mentally called for me..." He looked almost uncomfortable, barely making eye contact while he spoke. Maybe it was because he had always been advised against using his telepathic ability to communicate with his long-lost family. Or maybe there was another reason? "They spoke to me very briefly. Then, their voices sort of... faded into the distance."

"Are you serious?" I clapped my hands and shifted my weight onto my knees. "What did they say? Could you understand them? Why are they not here now?"

My fake enthusiasm seemed to surprise him.

A lovely lip curl gave me a small peak of his smile. "Their voices were faint. I think they approximately know my whereabouts, but the connection fizzled out before I could tell them my specific location. I think they flew over the mountains, and I believe that's why I lost connection."

"They can't have gone far!" My chest squeezed painfully. "Greyson, getting that link back is way more important than sitting here comforting me!" I said, and reluctantly, so very reluctantly, shifted away from him. I stood up, looking down at him. "You need to go back to your meditation and get them back! Now." I pointed at the door with eagerness. "Go! Before they leave completely!"

He hummed his disapproval, and shot forward towards me. He wrapped the back of my leg between his fingers and pulling me back down to my knees. Back to his side.

"Hey!" I objected as I felt down to the bed.

Holding me with an intense gaze, he leaned in with a sweet little frown plastered between his brows. "Ashlyn, you're just as important to me. If not, more."

Easily, I turned into putty under his gaze. His hand rested on my thigh so effortlessly, making me squirm. If it wasn't for the fact that I knew he had no idea how intimate his touch was, I would have thought he was doing it on purpose just to see my reaction. The way his hand held me in place, as if he had some kind of claim over me... as if I was his, to touch as he pleased.

Get a grip, Ashlyn.

"I really shouldn't be," I mumbled, reaching up to take his hand and moving it away, before I could turn into a red-faced mess.

"Yet, you are."

That plan derailed the moment his hand captured mine, and suddenly my face was on fire. Greyson studied our linked fingers, manipulating those ten digits as if it was the first time he'd felt another's hand within his own. I let him discover the various shapes, the flexible movements of my fingers and smooth mounts beneath them.

"Greyson, what are you doing?" I asked weakly.

In response, he traced the smooth lines inside my palm with the tip of his nails, and spoke in a hushed tone that gripped my heart to a stop:

"I just want to remember you, any way I can." His face turned grave and he let his hand fall away from mine. My chest tugged. I wish I could make you realise how extraordinary you are, and how grateful I am to have met you. Everything you've done for me to this point... I don't know how to ever repay you, he told me mentally. You've saved my life, Ashlyn. I can't thank you enough.

This time, hearing his voice inside my mind didn't bother me. Sure, I still didn't want him listening in to my every thought... but for now, having him inside my mind made me feel particularly at ease, and oddly protected.

Our eyes met, and Lord help me find restraint, I could have kissed him right there and then.

I did a mental shake, wishing he would stop unintentionally making me fall in love with him. "Greyson, you owe me nothing. Anyone else would have done the same thing under those circumstances. I'm not special."

The smile he gave me was insufferably lovely. You have no idea how wrong you are about that.

I pulled my hand away from his grasp. "You should leave. Go back and reach out to your family again," was all I managed to say. Trying to convince him to leave this planet as quickly as possible, should be my number one priority. I couldn't get sidetracked by my rebellious heart. "Go out there, and try to get in contact with them again."

His skin was as dark as the midnight sky as he leaned over and grabbed my pale-white hand anew, gingerly ushering me back against his chest.

"Stop telling me what to do," he said, as our bodies reunited.

My heart beat wavered as he wrapping the blankets around us and shuffled closer.

I relented, tucking myself against him. I thought he found it difficult to be touched. Wasn't it only a few days ago when he freaked out because I touched his arm? What had happened to the frightened alien-man who had kneeled in front of me to plead for forgiveness? He certainly wasn't here now.

A loose breath teased my hair. Rest, Ashlyn. You need rest.

For someone who hates being told what to do, you sure seem to like bossing me around, I teased.

His chest bounced lightly as he chuckled. Rest.

Despite everything, I was surprised to see how easily I was able to grin. Fine. I'll try.

A eerie sound in the hallway stiffened my soul. Alarm rattled my bones, as an inhuman cruel laugh faded into the distance. I was glad to see that the lights were still shinning bright within the bedroom, because the shadows in the hall seemed almost alive, as they lurked just beyond the threshold. I could feel the ghostly entity begging for a chance to be let in once more.

I have you, Greyson reminded me, protectively holding me against his side. It can't hurt you.

Just so you know, I sighed, I'll take a miracle for me to sleep soundlessly ever again.

He scoffed. "Give it an hour."

An hour? There was no way.

Cozied up to him like this, with my head using his chest as a pillow, there was no chance in hell (even if it weren't for the ghost) that my growing feelings would allow me to doze off, even for a second.

The house moaned and creaked, as the wind blew heavy breaths against the window pane, like a wolf in a children's bedtime story. I allowed my eyes to close, and as the minutes ticked on, I ultimately let the world fade away behind me.

And as he'd predicted, within the hour, I was sound asleep.