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demi-creme
I LAID IN BED; the glow of my phone bright on my face. My eyes strained against the dark. A YouTube clip played quietly from the speakers, chattering on about some creepy conspiracy theory that I knew would only worsen my insomnia. I glanced at the time displayed at the top of the screen – four in the morning.
Another sleepless night.
I sighed, pausing the video in frustration, the sudden silence ringing through me. The room was dark, lit only by my phone screen and the moon – the only sound, my quiet breathing and occasional shuffle of pyjamas against skin.
I waited for a moment, closing my eyes to see if the fatigue would hit me – if, by some miracle, I'd be tugged into my dreams until daylight. But all I felt was the silence reverberating through my bones, my heart pounding in my ears.
The dreadful race of thoughts through my mind – never ending.
I groaned, shifting in my bed sheets and moving to tap onto another YouTube video when a muffled thud echoed from my window.
I blinked, waiting, holding my breath. I was sure I'd heard something.
I shifted, tilting my head towards the window, waiting – a second passed, then another. And nothing. I sighed, relaxing slightly into the mattress.
Had I imagined it? I ran a hand over my weary face. The lack of sleep was really getting to me. I settled back into the mattress, trying to slow my heart rate again.
Thud.
I bolted upright, discarding my phone on my nightstand.
It was the middle of the night – no birds would be flying around at this time, and my neighbourhood was considered to be safe. At least, in the seventeen years I'd lived here, nothing of this sort had happened.
What was that?
I slid out of the bed, my bare feet padding quietly against wooden floors as I made my way to the window.
I hesitated, sucking a breath in through clenched teeth. Then, I pushed the curtains apart only to be met with a face.
I screamed, staggering back and pulling the curtains shut.
"Aspirin!" A voice slurred, muffled behind the glass of the window. "Aspirin!"
I blinked slowly, my heart beginning to race in realisation.
Only one person ever called me that.
I shuffled forward, parting the curtains again to see Isaac's face staring at me through the window.
"Isaac?" I whispered, my jaw falling slack in shock.
He sent me a lopsided smile, leaning his forehead against the window. His hair was messy, strewn all over his sticky forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot. I didn't miss the way he gently swayed or the slur of his words.
"Are you drunk?"
He laughed, his cheeks dimpling as he grinned. "What! No!"
"You're drunk," I said in disbelief, mostly to myself. "Oh, my God, you're drunk. And...And you're here! What the hell am I going to do with you?"
I paused for a moment, watching him giggle to himself, before pulling myself together. I slid the window open and grabbed a fistful of his leather jacket, tugging him roughly into my room.
"Get in here."
He chuckled rolling through the window and landing on my bedroom floor with a hard thud, falling into a lump of giggles on the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Caffeine | PUBLISHED
Teen Fiction[Caffeine is out now in paper back and Kindle!] "Medium black with three sugars, please." Isaac Hensick was your typical popular high schooler. He had tanned skin, girls on each arm and lungs full of cigarette smoke. But what most people didn't know...
