Haunted Dreams [Thomas Sharpe X Reader]

Part III

Looking at your wounded leg, it still tingles in pain. Then you remember your belongings, you saw your bag on a table not far from your bed. Looking at your injured feet to the table, you took a deep breath, slowly stood up. The pain runs through your body. It felt like there were nails pinned on your feet, in every step you take. You were about to reach for your bag when your knees gave in on pain.

"Argh!" you scream in pain.

"[Y/N], what are you doing? Are you okay?"

Thomas stopped your fall. You don't know how but he was able to catch you. The thought of wanting to know how he gets there was forgotten when your eyes met. Thomas' eyes held yours captive. It was so clear yet it feels likethey are hiding something, something dark. The gentleness in his eyes was hiding the pain.
Touching his cheek, you felt your hand cold against him but you don't care. You just want to look into his eyes, to know the stories that made them like that.

"I wonder..." you started but your words were cut off by the pain in your feet.

"Come on, you shouldn't be walking." Thomas took you into his arms and carries you like a bride. Slowly, he gently put you down on the bed.

"Thank you," you mumbled, his face was so close and you can feel your heart beating as his eyes catch yours.

"You're welcome." Thomas looked away as if he suddenly felt shy "Wh-what are you doing before I get here?" he asked trying not to be awkward.

"I was trying to get my bag," you answered pointing where it was.

"I see." Thomas took the bag and handed it to you.

"Thank you, Thomas," you said smiling at him but he returns it with a weak smile.

Looking at your stuff, your phone, wallet, pen, and notebook were still there, nothing is missing "I thought, I lost it." you said finding a small rectangle case.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Something I bought in the antic shop," you said with amusement.

"What interest you in that old thing?"

"I don't know." you honestly answered, "I just felt that I must need it."

"So you bought it for pleasure?" Thomas asked seating on the other end of the bed facing you.

"Out of curiosity and I think it wants me too." you said opening the box, inside there was a silver old pen "It is no longer working."

"Then it useless," he stated which kinda ticks you off.

"Yes, it is but..." you sighed "Why am I defending myself if I knew you will not listen."

"What makes you think of that?" a knot formed between his brows.

"I think you want to hear answers but I can't give you the answers you want to hear." you frankly told him with a smile.

"I see." Thomas smiled "I appreciate your honesty."

"Have you ever wanted something without knowing the reason? I mean, you just felt it and you know you must have it," you asked.

"I actually do." Thomas answered gazing at you and you found yourself speechless "I did. I never... Once in my life I did and..." he doesn't know if he should continue or not, memories were flooding in "Please excuse me, I need to see if the water is boiling. I'll make you some tea."

Guilt ate you up, with the way Thomas reacted you can tell that you said something that he doesn't want to talk about. Getting your notebook and pen, you started to write. There was something about the place that inspired you and not that long Thomas came back with tea.

"Thank you," you said as he handed you your cup.

"You're welcome. What were you doing?" he asked sitting in the chair beside the bed.

"I am writing," you answered.

"What are you writing about? If you don't mind me asking." Thomas asked with a gentle voice.

"It's a novel I'm working on. It is about..." you paused thinking if you should tell him "I'm sure you are not going to believe this but it is about the dead. How a living and the dead coexist with each other."

"Do you believe in ghost?" Thomas asked getting your full attention.

"I... I don't but I believe in memories."

"Memories?"

"Yes, memories. For the people who were left by the people they love, they create these images with the memories they had. Sometimes they claim they saw them but the truth is it was just their memories. People always hold on to that thin thread of hope that the dead will come back for them as if they never left." your voice was almost fading as the pain of losing someone took you over.

"You speak for facts, not the beliefs," Thomas stated.

"I just want to believe in something that is real, not because that's what people expect me to."

"You are a complicated woman. What if I tell you that ghost are real?" Thomas sat in front of you, a few meters away from you "They are not only memories."

|End of Part III|