Narcolepsy (A Love Story)

10: Abby

Industrial-grade carpet. It smells differently than residential carpeting, you know.

Not cold, but not warm. No breeze.

The sound of my own breathing, my own heartbeat.

The feel of my own clothes, my own body underneath them. I was lying on my side, curled up how I usually am when I have muscle control, with my knees tucked up close to my chest. I stretched one hand out, reaching. For what, I didn't know. All I found was carpet.

I felt...disappointed. Relieved. Sad. But mostly relieved. Whatever that was, it wasn't real.

"I'm still here." Goosebumps, every fucking time. Why'd he have to have such a deep, raspy voice? "Thought about running away after I realized what I was doing, decided not to be a chickenshit. I--I'll understand if you want to go to HR about this. I was way out of line."

You'd think I'd be angry with him. You'd think I'd feel violated, but the sad truth is that it didn't bother me. Quite the opposite. In fact, it was one of the most erotic experiences I'd ever had, and if we'd been in an established relationship — or if I was even sure he was doing it for the right reasons and not just to fuck with me — I'd be begging him for more right now. You give up things with a disease like mine, things like privacy, dignity, and control, but also things like "healthy relationships" and "normal human interactions." I don't flirt, I rarely feel confident enough to date because any nervousness wipes me out, and I have no illusions about being able to sustain a relationship long-term with anyone I might want to be with. Sure there are plenty of guys out there who are into fucking unconscious girls, but for some reason I have yet to find one that is also relationship material. That whole "date rape" thing tends to be a turn-off for me.

I rolled onto my back. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, sitting against the wall a few feet from me with his knees up and his elbows resting on them. His head was tilted back against the wall and he was watching me, wary but resigned.

"I'm not going to tattle on you to HR if you answer one question for me, but you have to tell me the absolute truth. If I even suspect you're lying to me, I will demand they fire you." I wouldn't, but he brought HR into it so I figured that must be something he's concerned about. I'd be more likely to lurk in an alley with a baseball bat if I was really upset. He seemed a little confused but also relieved, giving out a big sigh.

"Sure. I can do that."

I sat up, wanting to see his face clearly. "Why?"

"Why what? I mean, why to which part?"

I rolled my eyes, a little huff of exasperation escaping me. Of course he couldn't just answer the fucking question, he had to nail down exactly what I was asking to make sure he only answered what he needed to.

"No, no, don't get huffy with me, it was a legitimate question. Why am I still here? Why was I here to begin with? Why did I mess around with you? I want to make sure I'm answering the question you're intending to ask."

"Well, I was really just asking that last one, but now I'm kinda curious about the other two too," I said, moving closer to him and sitting cross-legged. I tucked my hands in the pockets of my hoodie. My body temperature drops when I sleep and I usually wake up chilled, which is yet another reason why his furnace of a body felt so good.

"I told you why I'm still here, because I don't run from my mistakes."

So it was a mistake. I knew that, I guess, but it still kinda stings to hear it. Not sure what I would've wanted to hear though...that he was so enraptured with my (inner) beauty that he was overcome with desire and couldn't help himself? That he had been wishing for an opportunity to get close to me and this one fell in his lap? Repeatedly? I wanted to roll my eyes at my own stupidity but I was maintaining a pretty solid stone-face here and didn't want to compromise it.