Tales of the Dead

TWELVE

(LOGAN)

It was four in the morning, and I was tossing and turning on the bed. The comfortable bed. Her comfortable bed. All while she was probably growing back problems by sleeping on the couch.

I couldn't settle with myself for letting her sleep there. In her own house. Right after traumatizing her with a pool of blood at her door and depending on her to keep breathing. That and that moment we'd had when she indicated she'd lost her brother. I'd had a moment of weakness, and I wasn't proud of it. Clearly, she wasn't up to talk about it or even acknowledge it, and that was more than fine by me. But it still kept me up.

That was not what I intended to happen when I decided to stop by Maya's house. Hell, I don't really know what I intended. But it sure as hell didn't involve me almost dying and her being kicked out of her own bed. 

Fuck. 

I struggled to stand up from the bed and silently opened the door. Luckily for me, it didn't creak. If it was my place, I'd have woken up the entire neighborhood trying to open my bedroom door. Once again, I had no idea what my plans were, but it looked like I'd developed a case of severe stupidity since Maya first winked at me. 

I walked slowly toward the living room, only to find her sound asleep with the TV on and the remote control barely hanging from her hand. Looking at her face lit only by the dim TV light made my heart suddenly skip some important beats, and I needed to get the fuck out of there. 

She just looked so peaceful. And... Cute?

Oh, hell no.

I needed to get my act together, because that should not happen to me. My system should not freeze whenever I look at her. Because that's not what I need right now.

I immediately looked away from her and turned around to walk back to the bedroom, but the stupid floor creaked beneath my feet. Really? My eyes closed in complete regret, and I was too afraid to look back. I was afraid she had woken up. What was I gonna say when she asked why I was sneaking into the living room at four in the morning? I would like to know why, too.

But when I finally turned my head to look at her, she was awake and worried. 'What's wrong? Do you need anything?' She scanned my body for problems, and her eyes landed back on my face. 

'No, I uh... I'm sorry.' I don't think I'd ever said those words to anyone as many times as I did in the last five hours to her, and even she was surprised to hear them coming from me again. 'I just couldn't sleep.' And so I decided to keep you from sleeping too. How considerate of me.

'Why not? Is it the wound?' She couldn't even keep her eyes properly open, but it didn't stop her from worrying about me. Even when I had technically just invaded her privacy, which made me want to punch myself. If there's something I despised was men who had absolutely no respect for a woman's boundaries. And there I was, currently standing on thin ice, because I didn't know where she drew the line. I'm pretty sure I stepped over it when I woke her up, but she didn't seem worried about that.

She cared more about other people than about herself. Something you would not expect from a reporter. I guess she was just different.

'No, it's my conscience.' She looked at me, and I continued. 'You're in your home... And you're sleeping on the couch for someone you barely know.' 

She was fed up with my shit. And how could I tell? Well, her hand raised to massage her temple, and she sighed. 

'Correction: I was sleeping,' she said, lifting her index finger, and it just made me feel even more guilty. Nice. 'And we've talked about this. I'm not gonna change my mind.' Ending the conversation with that, she lay back down and completely ignored my presence.