A Second Chance (book 2. of Transport)

21) What They Did

Everything was fine for a moment. There was nothing but a little confusion about the way I was tucked into the bed.

Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and reached next to me to find that Aris wasn't there. Trying to think rationally, I scanned the room as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Squinting, after a minute I saw his figure pacing back and forth. He sounded like he had been running for hours and even like he was wheezing in pain.

“Aris?”I asked, getting up. He didn't answer as he seemed to be mumbling absolute gibberish to himself.

Flipping the lights on, I saw him just walking while repeatedly wiping his eyes. His breathing only got heavier as he seemed ready to pull his hair out.

Approaching him, I gently pulled his hands away to see him just silently hyperventilating. Not knowing what else to do, I wrapped my arms around him to feel him absolutely shaking. Still, he clung to me like never before while sobbing into my shoulder.

“Tell me this is real,”He whispered.

“Aris, what-”
“Please. Please just tell me this is real. It wouldn't say if it was. It just said it wouldn't trick me again so promise me you're here now. Please tell me all of this is real,”He begged.

“This is real. All of this is real,”I swore. He just cried harder as I held him as tightly as possible. “This is real,”I repeated.

“I’m sorry,”He blurted out.

“You didn't do anything wrong,”I assured him.

“I’m sorry,”He repeated. Still, even with the obvious fear radiating from him he seemed absolutely exhausted.

“Come on, my love. You need to sleep,”I whispered. Taking his hand, I didn't let go as I walked to the bottom bunk with him. Pulling the blankets over us, I held him as he buried his face in my neck, letting out a hiccupped sob every now and then. Rubbing his back, I softly hummed to him as his hot tears slowly stopped pouring on my skin. Tangling his legs in mine, I made sure that we were as close as possible so he knew I wasn't going anywhere.

Aris's P.O.V

I hate this. Everything about it. I hate what those two weeks did to me, what they did to me. I hate how they're always just in the back of my mind. I hate the way I don't know what else to do but silently panic, and I hate that she still notices.

She's worried. Really worried. And I don't want her to worry. But I’m worried. That I’ll wake up or it will just pull its hand from my eyes and become someone else. That I didn't actually escape. That they're just letting me feel safe so they can find something worse to do.

Not that that would be possible, but they had done it before.