He Came Through the Window

I felt my head fall back on the pillow as I glanced toward the alarm clock on the adjacent nightstand. One twenty-eight AM.

He's late again.

A long yawn escaped my lips, a rush of lethargy running through me and my brown eyes wetting from strain. My vision blurred as I reluctantly sat up and stared back at my laptop. Blinking a few times and cracking my neck, I focused back where my cursor had left off.

"And one last blood-curdling scream echoed through the asylum confinements, the shadowy figure fading into the night," I read aloud, cracking a smile at my sadistic mind. Nothing like some horrorific fiction to keep me up at night.

The bright light from the computer illuminated the tiny, dark bedroom, creating grey shadows that popped out behind my bookcase and underneath my narrow, lumpy bed, like oddly contorted Halloween ghosts. Glancing to my direct left, my gaze traveled through the glass of my lone window and focused on the street below. The patter of hard rain clicked against the glass and accumulated into puddles on the sidewalk that were chilled by the brisk chill of autumn nightlife.  The occasional traveler shuffled down the sidewalk, hands tucked in their pockets and heads down with chins pressed against collarbones. He wasn't among them, which didn't surprise me much.

My fingers moved on autopilot across the keyboard, making spelling mistakes that I was too drained from the day to fix. The red lines under the misspelled adjectives did not matter as long as I finished the first draft of the piece.

Another rush of lethary hit me as I saved the document to my folder of failed horror pieces and sparatic literary tangents. I checked my phone, which simply lit up to show a lack of messages and reminder that I should have been in bed hours before. Breathing a bitter sigh, I ran a hand through my honey-brown hair and straightened up in the bed. The streets were vacant by that point, and the only audible sounds were the distant echo of ambulance alarms a few blocks over.

Groaning and cursing to myself, I lay back in the bed and held my phone in my hand until it fell from my grasp upon falling into a much awaited slumber.

~~~

"Ayden!"

Catching a shriek with a bite of my tongue, I shot up in bed and clutched the part of my shirt that covered my heart. I looked to the left at the window right next to my bed, and keeping a hand over my heart as it continued pattering like a drum beat, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him. He wore an apologetic grin and a shagged mop of dampened, black hair as he tapped the glass.

I knelt on the bed and unlocked the window bolt, hands trembling at the thought of his touch, his whisper and his lust.

"I scared you, huh?" he chuckled, hopping in through the window and plopping on my bed.

I felt my eyes roll as I shook my head and sighed. "Just take your shoes off before you get my floor all dirty."

"As you wish, my lady."

A reluctant giggle escaped from my lips as my lime-green lamp flickered on. "Oh, Holland, you're a piece of work."

"A piece of artwork," he rebutled with an easy laugh, leaning back against the window and resting an arm behind his head.

I frowned playfully at him and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Come here, Princess," Holland whispered with a pound of lust in his voice, stretching his long arms forward and touching my hips with his fingertips.

"You're late," I reminded him, wagging a finger and giggling when he frowned.

He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me, fingertips running over the small of my back. "I'm here now." Before I could fight back, his hand caressed my cheek as he leaned forward, lips attaching to mine.

~~~

(So yeah, I randomly thought I should start something new, a short story. Tell me what you think and if you think I should continue. The song on the side is a cover of "One More Night" by Maroon 5. I love the original and the cover equally.)