Silent Solitude

Chapter 4

The light dimmed as the stars faded, but this time, it was because I was drifting into the night. To go to the stars, to Grave. It was pure bliss and serendipity.

That was until I realized that I was in a nightmare and not a dream.

I knew it was a nightmare because the stars were always red. They were blood red and looked like a million crawling ladybugs instead of pretty stars. It wasn't a silent type of nightmare either. It was loud. The sounds were everywhere, the sound of trains, screaming, and my parents yelling.

Waking up was always a process, and this time was no different. I bolted upright, breathing heavily, and heard the sound of my heart ramming against my chest. Sometimes, I'd look out of the windows to convince myself that I wasn't still in a nightmare. I did that now since Roman's guest bedroom had no curtains.

The stars were not red, they sparkled and shined from so far away. They were beautiful and I would've given anything to experience the joy I had once felt looking up at them.

The bed sheets were unfamiliar against my legs, and I stood, stretching before deciding to get a glass of water. The wooden floor was too cold against my bare feet as I padded to the door, being as quiet as I could.

I wasn't sure what time it was, and stupidly, I'd forgotten my phone at the new house. I retraced my steps and found the kitchen after some searching. Roman's house was huge, and it was hard not to peer into every room wondering what you might find.

I opened the kitchen door, to eerie silence, and I nearly screamed when I saw someone sitting in one of the seats. What was he doing up?

Steeling myself, I walked over to him and he looked up when I came close enough, craning his neck around. He was in different clothes, so I assumed he had changed and couldn't sleep, but he looked tired.

"Roman," that earned a small smile from him, but I didn't get what was funny.

"Josephine," he said, eyes gleaming as he continued to smile. I looked at him funny as I grabbed a glass of water. Wordlessly, he pulled out a chair beside him and gestured for me to sit.

"What are you doing up?" I asked, sitting with my cup in hand. He glanced at my cup and his smile deepened ever so slightly.

He pointed to it. "Austin and our friend painted that cup for me," I examined the drawing that I assumed was a design. It was a very rough painting of a boy that is supposed to resemble  Roman. I couldn't help my smile. That was funny.

He didn't answer my previous question, instead asked one in turn "Why are you awake?"

I shrugged. "Nightmares."

He stayed indifferent, showing no change in his expression, but he stared at me, and I stared back. "Is it okay?" he asks, after a minute. I didn't answer, rolling questions around in my head. Is it okay? Not, 'Are you okay?' What exactly that was supposed to mean? I wasn't sure. Instead of answering, I caught a glimpse of his tattoo. He followed my gaze. "Tattoos," he stated, and I laughed at the obvious fact.

"I know it's a tattoo Roman," I huffed, rolling my eyes. "What are they for? If you didn't mind me asking,"

He shook his head. "You first,"

It took me a minute to understand, and then I remembered that I hadn't answered his question before.

"It's okay," I nodded, dismissing his expression, and looked at him with a raised brow. "Your turn."

It's his turn to roll his eyes. "I believe, that some days need to be remembered, and unfortunately my memory fades quicker than I'd like, details are hard to remember," he didn't explain any further than that, but he did add. "This one's for Austin," and pointed to a tattoo he had to lift his sleeve for. A door handle. I wanted to ask more but knew it wasn't my place. Instead, I took another drink of water