Waiting For You

Chapter Thirty-one

A/N: I'M SORRY.

"When souls find comfort in one another, separation is not possible".

~N. R. Hart

Hunter

I opened my eyes to see that I was alone in bed. Confused, I stood up and walked out of my room, in search of where Alex was. He was right there just moments ago. The sun hadn't risen yet, everything still covered in darkness. Light was only coming from the bathroom, from the ajar door. Was he puking again? Why hadn't he waken me up if he didn't feel good?

"Alex...?" I called out and uneasy feeling engulfing me. Slowly, I pushed to door open.

No. No. No. I couldn't breathe, my lungs were on fire. I couldn't move, my legs were heavy and numb. I couldn't scream, my throat being choked by invisible hands. Despite the horror I felt, I couldn't bring myself to take away my eyes. A sob escaped me and my knees hit the ground. Another sob followed, louder this time and another one all until the sobs turned into screams. Tears fell down my eyes just like blood was falling down from his veins.

No. Not him. Not again.

I opened my eyes to see that Alex was still in my arms. I was breathing fast, cold sweat running down my back. Bringing up my hand I realized that my cheeks were wet. Had I cried myself awake? It was just a nightmare. A goddamn nightmare. I exhaled, happier than ever to wake up with a drunk guy in my bed. I placed a hard kiss on top of his head and pulled him closer to me.

Alex was still deep asleep, too tired to even notice that I had woken up. Reaching out behind me I brought my phone to see that it was only seven in the morning. Realizing that Alex wouldn't be up for the next three hours, I decided to fall back to sleep. If I could.

When I woke up again, some light did shine in my room –though it wasn't as much as it should have been-. Inching away from Alex, I stood up to see that gray clouds covered the sky. Would it be raining today? As quietly as I could I walked out of my room, trying not to wake Alex up, and I closed the door behind me. I went to the kitchen where I filled up two glasses with water –one for me and one for Alex, even though he was still asleep-. I set aside his glass and placed next to it a bottle of painkillers, all while drinking up my glass.

At once I began preparing breakfast. It was almost eleven in the morning, so I imagined Alex would be up in half an hour or so. He needed his rest, but he had told me once that he couldn't sleep for more than seven hours a night. I fixed up some pancake batter and then hoped that the sizzling of the pan wasn't loud enough to wake him up.

From the small window which lay just above the sink to my right, I could see that it was raining outside. The drops of rain were still small, but they were still depressing. My mind wandered back to the nightmare I had seen.

I didn't see nightmares often anymore. Or at least, I didn't remember them as vividly as last night's. My skin still crawled by remembering the image I had seen. I understood why my subconscious had put together that twisted kind of dream, seeing Alex's state from yesterday; it brought back bad memories. Memories from times when my mother would have a manic episode or from when she got depressed and just lay in bed.

"Are you sad because of me?" Alex asked, making me jump as I hadn't heard him get out of my room. He was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, with puffy eyes and a hazy expression.

"I'm not sad," I told him and pointed toward the table, where the painkillers and water were, with my spatula. "Have one if you're having a headache," I said and flipped the final pancake. "Why did you think I was sad?"