NECROMANTIC

thirteen.

Despite myself, I must’ve fallen asleep, if only for a little while, because Rob was beside me one moment, and the next I opened my eyes, and I was alone. The sheets on Rob’s side were messy and rumpled, and when I put my palm on them, still a little warm, meaning it hadn’t been long since he’d got up. His cotton pyjama pants were thrown clumsily over the end of the bed frame. I propped myself up on one elbow, yawning and rubbing my eyes.

I felt like shit. My entire body was one big ache, and combined with the lack of sleep, I really didn’t know how I was functioning at all.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position and dragged my fingers through my hair, staying still for a few moments, before swinging my legs out of bed, and standing. Well, attempting to stand. My legs were so weak to start with I ended straight back on my butt with a little yelp of surprise. I shook my head at myself, before gripping onto one of the bed posts and pushing myself up. I took a moment to get used to being on my feet, before heading to Rob’s en-suite bathroom.

I bared my teeth in a grimace at my reflection. Underneath my eyes was a dusky purple, the kind of sleep deprivation marks even make-up couldn’t hide. The Hello Kitty plaster was still on my cheek, almost hilariously bright and happy compared to the rest of my appearance. I attempted to sort out my hair as best I could without the aid of my brush, tenderly trying to avoid the bump on my head, and when I’d done that, I filled the sink with cold water. I stared down at the little pool for a moment, still until a drip from the tap hit it and it rippled, before putting my hands into it, bending down, cupping my hands, and splashing the water into my face. The shock wasn’t nearly as sharp as I wanted it to be, but it did make me feel ever so slightly less grainy.

Back in Rob’s room, I took off his shirt, put my bra on, and pulled on my shirt, on top of which I also put on one of his navy sweatshirts, the sleeves of which were so long I had to push them up so my hands were visible. I kept his boxers on, and stole a pair of grey socks from him too, and pulled my jeans on – with a little struggle as they went past my knee. Ready, I headed down the stairs.

He had his back to me when I walked into the kitchen. His back and shoulder muscles were visibly taught and tense under the fabric of the red plaid shirt he wore. I’d bought him that shirt, a month after we first started dating, when his mom had chucked his original one out, mistaking it as junk because it was so old and worn in. He seemed to be transfixed on the mini TV in front of him, which was on the local news station. A senile old lady had apparently walked out into the middle of the freeway, and they managed to get her to the other side safely. A damned miracle. If she’d been hit, they would’ve called it a damned tragic shame. I cleared my throat softly, and he jumped a little, picking up a remote and switching the TV off, and turning to face me. “Morning.” He said, offering me a small, tired smile.

“Morning.” I echoed, shuffling over and sitting down in the chair just around the corner from his.

He pushed his hands on the table and got to his feet. “Coffee? Tea?” he asked.

Coffee would probably be the best in my situation, but I couldn’t stand the stuff. The only kind I could drink was the kind that had chocolate in it, or something like that. “Tea, please.” I replied quietly.

“Three sugars and milk.” He smiled a little more as he said my preferences, and I managed a weak smile back, nodding.

The quiet was almost unnerving. This wasn’t one of our usual, comfortable silences. This silence was unsure, heavy like a cloud full of rain, just hovering, waiting, above our heads, ready to be a downpour. Soon, a cup of tea was in front of me and I thanked him softly, letting the sweater sleeves falls so they covered all but the tips of my fingers, and wrapping my hands around the mug so I could get the warmth from it without it burning me. Rob sat with his own mug of coffee – one sugar, milk – and mimicked my pose, hunched over slightly, holding onto it.