Dream Walker

Chapter 30 | La Petite Mort

Euphoria had always been a concept outside of Callie's imagination. Sure, she felt an adrenaline high from exercise, and rum had been known to profoundly elevate her mood, but an all-encompassing, out-of-body sense of pleasure was more than she could comprehend. It was something she had never experienced until she felt magic flowing through her veins.

Her lesson with Cyril had mostly focused on strengthening her mental defenses and controlling her powers rather than exploring them. She had learned how to lock down her thoughts so they wouldn't be projected into Cyril's mind. He had also suggested using a similar technique while she slept, as ridiculous as it seemed to consciously control her mind while unconscious, to reduce the risk of ending up in another world.

She was excited to test out his theory, but she had no intention of sleeping anytime soon. His last lesson for her had been to open herself up to feel the energy, the magic of the veil, flowing throughout her body. "When you surrender yourself to the energy," he said, "you can feel how connected we are with everything. Then, you can use that connection to manipulate the world around you."

Though they had not yet addressed what she would do with that connection, she'd been perfectly content without the explanation. As soon as she let the energy flow unhindered inside of her, she had been propelled to the highest of highs, and nothing could bring her down. Not even Cyril's warnings about the limits and risks of what he was teaching her. All she could remember was something about how she would feel when the energy dissipated from her body and how flooding her body with the power of the veil could end poorly if done wrong—blah, blah, blah. Meanwhile, Callie was floating on a cloud where nothing gloomy could penetrate.

After hours of explanations and training from Cyril, the sky above them had begun to grow darker. When she slipped back into her own world, the euphoria continued to overwhelm her other thoughts. She felt as uninhibited as when she was drunk and happier than she had in a long time. Thoughts, rational and irrational, passed through her brain, which was doing a poor job of sifting through them.

When her eyes landed on the plate of brownies, she lit up even more. She grabbed one, chowing down on it, enjoying the sugar rush that complemented her energy rush. When she still didn't feel satisfied, she thought about eating another one. Yet, the idea that stuck in her mind was going to the source of her pleasure. The chocolate was a poor substitute for what she truly craved.

She grabbed a plastic container from a cabinet and placed the brownies inside, sealing them up and returning them to the counter. She rinsed and dried the plate the brownies had been sitting on, a dish that definitely did not belong to her or her roommates, then walked out the door. Muscle memory was all that reminded her to grab her keys and to lock the door behind her as she left.

The brisk November air did nothing to cool her passion. It only spurred her to walk faster. She navigated without thought across dark streets and intersections that would have normally inspired caution. At that moment, she felt like nothing could hurt her. She was too powerful, untouchable even. Except touch was all she wanted.

When she finally stood in front of Alex's door, she felt only a moment of hesitation. The high would soon wear off, but she was unwilling to be responsible and rational until it did. It was too nice to escape the anxiety and guilt that plagued her mind relentlessly.

She never considered he might not be there, or that he might not want to see her. Her addled brain ignored any negative thoughts. It had one mission, and it would not let anything else get in its way. She knocked, and the door opened after a few seconds.

The sight of his bare torso made the flirtatious smirk on her face grow even larger. "Not expecting company, huh?"

Alex's confusion quickly morphed into self-consciousness. "I, uh—" he cleared his throat and continued, "I was just watching TV, and so, yeah, no company." The awkward way he spoke was endearing. "What are you—I mean, what's up?"