How scary can it be not to know whether you're living in reality or in your dreamland?
And what if it goes on for months?
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We are not fallen angles.
Neither are we pure evil.
The thing is that we are a confusing mix of both.
The "good guys"...
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After staying in the overly relaxing shower for almost three hours, just staring at nowhere as I was trying to think about just one of the important things I'd have to think about at least, I came to the realization that I was not ready to even think. I couldn't.
Sighing heavily, I wrapped a towel tightly around my body, and before going out, I noticed the mirror on my side. I walked back to it, clearing the fog just to see the shade of my face there.
Oh God, when did I become so old?
I looked so different. Not that I got wrinkles or something. It was just the way I looked back at my mature reflex that made me look seven years older than what I thought I was.
I looked down, running a hand in my hair before going out of the bathroom, thinking that the room would be empty, but of course, it wasn't.
The man, who sat on the edge of the bed, looked up at me with a small smile before getting up taking slow steps closer to me, completely unaware of the mess happening in my heart because of how nervous I felt.
"Feeling better?" With that deep voice of his, he asked, placing a hand lightly on my cheek.
The first thing my mind made me do was clutching on the top of the towel as I stared at him. "Yeah," I nodded my head nervously. "Thank you."
With a playful smile on his face, for a reason that I hope I misunderstood, he tilted his head to the side. "You're nervous."
He was a tease. I could sense that.
"Umm.. I-i.." If I didn't stutter in front of that guy, who else would I stutter before? "Yes." So, I just answered plainly, looking away from him, my hand running in my hair out of my tension.
"Actually, I wasn't asking."
That man needed to stop messing with me, because I was fucked up enough already!
My gaze snapped back to him again, the same annoying smirk was on his face. I cleared my throat, changing the topic. "I was thinking," I started, trying to speak seriously. "I should be the one.. Sleeping in the guest room.. Not you."
"No." His face turned serious suddenly, making me even more nervous. "You're not sleeping anywhere but here."
Bossy.
"I mean.. This is your house-" I immediately stopped as his eyebrow raised up in dislike, causing me to remember his previous outburst because of this one word, your. Not our. "Sorry." I mumbled, looking down.
"Rain," I heard him sigh as he lifted my face up slowly to look at him again. "Just until you remember, always know that this is our home. We both chose it together, every little detail about it was of our choice, the most was by you to be honest.. Don't make yourself a stranger.. You will never be one."
