Because, Brett... [BxB]

Chapter 8: A Drop Of Rain

Ominous clouds hang over me, cold and dark. The first drop of rain hits my skin and sends my body rippling from the chill. Shrouded in the dead of night, I stand on a street corner. The paving is barely lit under the gentle flicker of a street light. It's the only one.

My gaze wanders down the street, searching for something, someone, anyone. All I see is the darkness though. All I hear is the pitter patter of the rain as the heavens open wider above me. All I feel is the impact against my flesh before it streams down the crevices and wrinkles left in place by too-taut, straining muscles.

I'm alone. Completely and utterly alone.

The thought to stray from the fading light crosses my mind for a second. The same way in a horror movie the protagonist thinks it's a good idea to chase the growling monster. This isn't beauty and the beast though. And the voice in my head screams like the onlooker to stay away, to stay safe.

The rain pours and it pours. My heart thump thump thumps, a raging war inside my rib cage and the shiver that runs through me isn't enough to distract me from the sudden light that now pierces the dark expanse.

My eyes widen in terror, irrational and blinding. Two ice-like orbs stare back at me. My fists clench and unclench. The onlooker screams at me to run but my feet are rooted.

A moment later the orbs are gone. The lonely streetlight flutters and buzzes, the rain pounds against me soaking me to the core and a tremor courses through me. I spin in circles, wrapping my arms around my torso and my head erratically jolts from side to side, desperate to keep sight of every little movement.

When they reappear to my left, I lock on. They're closer, it's unmistakable. I stumble backwards until I hit the freezing metal of the lamppost and my hands clamp on, attempting to ground my flying heart.

Then they're gone again, in the blink of an eye.

"N-No," I stutter.

I want this to end, it's not real, it can't be real. My eyes clamp shut, urging the darkness away.

I jolt, frozen and terrified as a rumbling crash echoes through the sky and light flashes before my eyelids. Suddenly, I feel a brush across my collar bone. It's not like the cold touch of the storm, it's warm and rough.

"You're not a child, Brett. I can see you no matter how tightly you squeeze those pretty eyes shut," the voice echoes around my head in a whisper as the touch continues to ghost over my skin, "I see you."

My fingers clench harder around the post, whitening my knuckles and sending my palms raw. "Not real," I murmur.

"Don't you want to know what I look like?" The fleeting touches travel up my neck, five fingertips and I wince away.

I don't want to know. There's a dread in his voice. In R's voice as he pushes his palm into my skin and his digits worm their way around my jaw. It's him, that's all I can think. The terror of the dark, the horror of just the eyes, the chill of the rain, it all washes away as I feel those scolding fingers wrap around my throat like a snake constricting in on it's prey.

I fling my eyes open.

White.

A white ceiling hangs over me.

Drenched and panting and wide-eyed, I lay paralysed. My heart continues to soar, thump thump thumping like there's no tomorrow, but there is.

I'm in my room, in my bed, sprawled amongst the mass of duvet and blankets. A thick layer of sweat coats my skin and I glisten in the sunrise that peeps through the open blind.

"It wasn't real," I tell myself.

It's never real.

My clenched fists grip the blankets for dear life and gradually I manage to will myself to relax. I slow my erratic breathing, focus on the warm sunlight dancing across my skin and push away the night terrors. The term lucid dream flashes across my consciousness. It just felt so real - feels so real. Releasing the duvet, my hand climbs to find my neck. I brush my fingers across the skin, I can still feel the heat there, the tightness of his constricting grip.

With a shake of the head, I push it all away. Dwelling will get me nowhere, I've just got to push through as usual. I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, taking one last deep inhale before shakily getting to my feet.

Once downstairs, I find Alice in the kitchen standing in front of the new coffee machine she had sent me out to purchase a few days ago.

"Morning," she says, taking her steaming mug and leaning against the counter. Being the early bird she is, she's already ready for work.

I just about manage to grumble out, "Morning." Before grabbing a bowl from the cupboard and pouring myself some cereal. Today is my day off and after last night, I definitely plan on treating it as such. "I won't be home later," I remind Alice.

She blows over her coffee, "Oh right. Your date." Smiling tightly, she takes a sip.

"Yeah."

"Chloe called," Alice says.

Of course she did, she's probably sick of Jake or whatever his name was. I choose to ignore her and get my milk.

"She said you'd been ignoring her calls. She seemed really upset."

"I don't want to talk to her," I tell Alice. A sullen look crosses her face and she nods. The conversation quickly fizzles out to nothing after that and when her coffee is finally cool enough she necks the whole thing before hoisting her bag over her shoulder and leaving. The crash of the front door echoes through the house.

Sighing, I fixate on the dwindling cereal in front of me before deciding that I've had enough. The chair scrapes gently as I stand and the bin rustles as I scrape the remnants away.

The rest of the day is then spent lounging away in front of the TV. Netflix and chill as people like to call it. It always makes me feel bad when I waste away hours of my life like this, but fatigued and craving rest after a night tossing and turning, the notion of doing anything even remotely strenuous seems appalling. Though, when the hands of the clock above the fireplace finally land on 4pm, I figure it's time to start getting ready. Seth had said that he'd pick me up at 5pm.

I drag myself back upstairs.

A hot shower easily washes the accumulated sweat away and a fluffy towel rubs me dry. I spend a few minutes fluffing my hair up with Alice's hairdryer - almost burning my head off in the process - before I, as usual, wax my fringe into a sturdy quiff. The hardest part of getting ready for a date, however, is undoubtedly choosing what to wear. I know that Seth's plan is to take me out to dinner, but I don't want to look too fancy nor like I've just turned fifteen - all hoodies and high-tops. After scouring my closet for what feels like an eternity of trying things on and tossing them back, I settle for a faded pink button-up and some not-too-tight jeans. Casual, but not too casual.

A glance at my watch tells me I have ten minutes to spare, and with nothing much else to do, I sit on the second to last step in the hallway with my phone and wallet grasped in my hands as I wait for something to happen.

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