Kingdom of isolation - you can't hide

Thirty Eight ~ Aurora

Aurora

I'm burning up, my skin is too hot under the comforter. Kicking it aside, I stretch my arms over my head languidly, not ready to open my eyes just yet. Warm fingers trail a path along my spine, resting just below the waistband of my shorts. I lean into the gentle caresses on my heated flesh. Cool air coasts across my skin, almost ticklish. That feels so good..

"Aurora.."

I moan in protest, turning over onto my stomach in an effort to get away from the talking furnace someone must have left on in my room. A deep laugh rumbles against my back, the feeling both delicious and terrifying. Delicious because it makes my skin tingle, and terrifying because I'm supposed to be alone right now. Hang on, I've heard it before.

I wake up with a shuddering gasp, squinting under the harsh sunlight streaming through my windows. I did not just have a dream about—

My phone pings incessantly on the bedside table, with the dreaded notification on time as always. Like clockwork, I wake up to it.

Devil's Spawn: Wake up, little fiancée.

"Asshole!"

Devil's Spawn: Did you dream about me?

"No!"

I can't believe I'm talking to his text messages, like a complete lunatic. But that's how it's been for the last few weeks. And yes, I have tried blocking his number but it never seems to work. He's hacked my phone, that's the only explanation. My only rebellious response is to not respond. At all. I have been tempted, multiple times, but I've refrained. Barely. His next message, however, paired with my mood, sends me over the edge.

Devil's Spawn: I don't appreciate you ignoring me. Makes me want to do things you wouldn't appreciate.

Frustrated at last, I type a response, my refrain already out of the window.

Me: Bite me!

I throw my phone against the bed, grumbling my way into the bathroom. Fuck him and his stupid messages!

Standing under the shower, I scrub my face raw, in complete disbelief that I somehow ended up dreaming about him. I have replayed our last encounter in my mind more than I'd like to admit. He wanted a kiss and I embarrassingly pecked his frikkin jawline because that's as far as my tippy toes could take me. So embarrassing! I can still feel the rough stubble on my lips, his heady scent is ingrained in my mind. He did smell really good, and I hate the guy.

But this dream has rattled me. His touch on my skin felt so real, almost making me question whether it was merely a dream or if he actually was here. I look around the bathroom dubiously, as if he'll pop out of some corner like the boogeyman.

"I hate him!" I screech.

Satisfied with my outburst, I smile at myself in the bathroom mirror and get ready as if I didn't just scream the place down. I don't have time to ponder over my nightmare of a dream, nor Alexander's relentless pursuit of ruining my day with his messages. Today is a big day for me. I'm officially twenty one years old. Fuck. It's my birthday. I'll be damned if I let him ruin my day.

I can't remember having birthday parties or anything that grand. It was mostly just a chaotic mess that I loved. I remember on my 16th, Uncle Noah had burst through the front door after a long flight, screamed the whole place down and shoved my face into the cake Aunt Clara had spent hours baking. Fun times. Simpler times, actually, now that I think about it.

Last year was my loneliest one to date, having been shipped off to Canada. I did get a cake delivered to me, I can only assume it was from someone who cared. But this year, I'm going to be celebrating with my entire family. It feels surreal, the things that can happen within a year. I mean, one minute you're on the run and in the next, you're engaged and reunited with your family. Insane.