Glimpse

Chapter 17: Shayne

Scattered light breached the darkness enveloping Shayne's small but organized room. Tiny beams that emanated from the slivers of window his black curtains neglected to cover. The glow breaching the perimeter of his closed-door outlined Courtney's silhouette from her post on the corner of his bed.

"You should go," Shayne said, snatching the corner of his faux fur blanket. He bound himself up in it as he turned from her.

The mattress absorbed his side, his muscles sinking into the lumpy cushion. He wished it would consume him completely and allow him to disappear.

Breath trapped behind teeth, Shayne heeded the shadows convulsing on his wall. Fat blotches that tapered into elongated fingers stretched and undulated across off-white paint. He's coming, they promised. A wet gasp tore his lips, heart hammering his ribcage - rapid, irregular bursts. Eyes piercing his skull accompanied the flames scalding his calves.

"Courtney, please, before." Shayne choked, fresh tears trampling the dried streaks painting his cheeks. "He. I can't stop him. Returning. He'll." His speech jumbled, words catching on his timid sobs. Fear corrupted his coherency. Disjointed threads fraying on the ends that her kindness mended.

Kindness that overwhelmed with disgust. Disgust that she still stomached his presence. Disgust at himself for permitting her to remain. Disgust at the blaze scorching his skin.

Two layers. Two layers of thick denim and Courtney's touch still burned. Warmth radiated from the cuff of his jeans, disseminating up his muscles to quiet his heart. A comfort ruined for him the moment Alternate Shayne put her in danger - the moment he enabled it. His heart constricted. I should have been stronger.

1, 2, 3. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Inhaling, Shayne downed the salt barring his throat. He sealed his eyes to monitor the erratic drumming in his chest. Skipped beats danced to a hastened rhythm. Counting his breathing, he willed his heart to steady into a trustworthy rhythm.

"I told you to leave." He kicked at her hand to emphasize the risk of lingering.

"Shayne." Her fingers ceased. The imminent release of success cut short when her hand flattened over his ankle.

Shayne jerked his leg away, tucking into a ball.

The burning stopped.

"Go. Before it's too late." His threat wavered on clogged tears.

Silence tensed his chest, lungs stilling in wait for her occupancy to empty and the bed to elevate. Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours. A figment. A hallucination. The unchanging shadows on the wall told him so. Time still existed, just distorted.

Her pressure vanished.

The relief of her vacancy never arrived. No. It instead strangled his heart, twine coiling around until each beat throbbed for her, for her comfort. For her reassurance that their friendship survived. Like I deserve it. Shayne hugged himself tighter, smaller, anticipating her footfalls to start and the door to creak open with a muttered farewell.

It never came.

The mattress sank beneath him, closer to his hips this time. He wiggled away until his body teetered on the edge. In his head, she copied, and her affection enveloped him. In his head, her arms sheltered him. In his head, the Diner never occurred, and their balance prevailed.

Shayne peered over his shoulder. Her back faced him, hunched over with her feet on the floor. Straight arms glued to her waist; hands planted on either side of her bore no weight. A curtain of blonde shielded her profile, her neck craning to glance at him. His sapphires retreated before their eyes met.