Glimpse

Chapter 30.5: Courtney

Frightened breathing filtered through the silence that hollowed Shayne's bedroom. Erratic bursts too shallow to saturate. Deprived of oxygen, a lightheaded and distraught Courtney shielded Shayne's unconscious body from the late morning sun as it infiltrated his room.

Burning rays poured across fields of blue, his sheets now a disheveled mess of untucked corners. A thick coating of dust sullied where textile encountered floor. Grime that extended to the pillows and duvet Courtney had kicked off in a hurricane of panic. Panic that still pumped through her veins as she waited for Shayne's return.

Prayed for Shayne to return.

Anxiety had propelled her into action the second she exited the bathroom and found him sprawled across the bed. Breathing, but unresponsive. Wearing nothing but her towel, she had raced to his side, determined to be the first thing Shayne saw when he awakened. That had been thirty minutes ago. Thirty minutes that had regret seeding its roots.

With his head cradled in her lap and nothing but loosely tied terrycloth and her clenched thighs concealing her intimates, a torrent of worst-case scenarios second-guessed her decision. What if Alternate Shayne wakes instead of you? Tugging the towel down in an attempt to better hide, Courtney groaned as the material sprung back to rest even higher on her leg than before.

The fear of Shayne waking to her absence barred her from slipping away to dress. Spying his bureau just a few feet from the bed, she strained to grab the handle. Fingertips grazing the wooden knob unable to find purchase, she surrendered her mission with a profound sigh and refocused to his limp mass anchoring her in place.

Knuckles traveling down his neck and over his torso, she adjusted his white cotton T-shirt that had hiked up to reveal his well-defined abs. Grazing his burning-hot skin, she fingered the fabric. If he's overheating, I could just steal his...

Slight stirring dismissed the idea before she had the chance to act on it. Barely noticeable movements snowballing into a display of anguish and pain, agony contorted his face as his body writhed. Sporadic pulses of constricting and stretching muscles as if being electrocuted.

A flattened palm to his chest struggled to restrain him as nails raking through his hair willed him to calm. Seconds turned to minutes before tranquillity replaced his uncontrollable seizing. Despite his breath evening out, hers shallowed.

Behind her faulty mask, her anxiety ran rampant. Synapses on high alert. New. This was new. It amplified her escalating concern that the man who woke wouldn't belong to her. Fixing her gaze to him, she forced the tears threatening to return down her throat. Please still be you.

Marbles rolling beneath eyelids halted her breath, quickening the rapid pounding vibrating through her ribcage. The gates barricading his blue oceans parted, but their waves ceased to crest with their new freedom, their waters still and depths murky.

The hammering in her chest stuttered. Sharp needles spiked her heart as fear punctured its muscular walls. It terminated its beating for a minute-long second.

What she perceived paralyzed.

Darkness glazed bright blue iris in a translucent film. Its scorching far more apparent on their edges than on their centers. An unseen sight. An unsettling mix. Not Alternate Shayne, but not fully Shayne either. No. No. No. No. It can't. You can't.

She shoved him off her lap.

Chest heaving with shallow breaths, she backed up against the headboard and gathered her knees to her breasts as his trembling form struggled to sit up. Nowhere to go. No escape. Nothing to block him as he powered through the pain and dragged himself towards her. Every movement stiff and filled with effort. Wincing with pain, he persisted until he kneeled before her.

Half-scorched eyes locked on to her.

"Hey, it's me, just me," he said, a coughing fit obscuring his tone. Collapsing to his hands, he gagged on tears cascading down his cheeks. They pelted the wrinkled sheets below him. Each drop soaked the blue cotton until its once pale appearance darkened. A small puddle diffusing across its hills swelled into a lake as the rain of salt continued.

Fear overrode the distress his pain elicited, crushing Courtney even further against the headboard. Its cherry-stained wood abraded her exposed back with each fear-fueled breath. Blood evacuated her knuckles as she tightened her grip on her towel.

Shakey digits reached for her, his entire frame teetering as he balanced on his kneecaps. Jumbled blues pleaded with her, but instincts saw her flinching from his touch. A loud thump vibrated through the mattress as his arm crashed against his side in defeat.

He swallowed.

"Courtney, please, you need to believe me." Soft velvet vanquished her doubts. His voice. Shayne's voice. No gravel. No rough edges. Soft, smooth, and one-hundred percent his. It's you. It really is you.

Relief launched Courtney into Shayne's arms, her now-forgotten towel pooling around their legs. Muffling her loud crying with his shoulder, she latched onto him. Fingers drilling into his back, she flattened against him, endeavoring for every inch of her to connect with his heat.

Though only a thin layer of black cotton divided them, she still ached to be closer. Ached for his comforting touch to erase the world. Ached to eliminate the offending article withholding his unhampered warmth. Without thinking, his shirt landed on the floor as she reglued herself to him.

"Your eyes, I thought," she sobbed. "I thought I lost you."

"My eyes?" Shayne coiled his arms around her waist, flattened palms plastering her shoulder blades. He crushed her body against his as he peppered her hair with affection.

"They're darker, like his but not." Saliva spluttered from her lips as frantic hands strived to maintain their hold. A surge of emotion too vast to process weakened their grip, riddling her with violent tremors.

Slipping down his frame, she scrambled to hoist herself back up, skin brushing skin until her face nested in the crook of his neck. His arm slotting into the small of her back pinned her in place.

"Mixed, they're mixed." Teeth scraped muscle as open-mouth sobs wracked her form. Sweet nothings mended frayed nerves as circles seared her back. It quieted her body-quaking cries, his reassurance easing them into faded whimpers.

"Shhh, I'm still me, Courtney. I'm still in control, and I'm not going anywhere. Not right now." Cupping her face, Shayne tilted her eyes to him. The calloused pad of his thumb soothed her temple, dipping to swipe at salty droplets now and then. His own tears contrasted the weak but genuine smile pulling at his lips.

Unable to take the emulsion tainting his blue pools, she wrenched herself free and propped her forehead on his pecs.

"Mixed eyes or not." He guided her ear to the rapid beating pounding through his chest. With a soft kiss, he nuzzled into her hair. His quiet cries paralleling hers, he chanted. "It's me. I'm still me."

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Yah, 30.5 weird, I know, but seeing as this back tracks a little, I didn't think it fit with being part of Chapter 31. It seemed too important to just cut out. SO SURPRISE! A mini chapter. Also, work starts back up on Monday, and with how complicated chapter 31 is turning out, I wanted to give you something. :D

(Note: that 31 and 32 should still be Courtney POVs).

Well hope you enjoy. It prob could use something, but whatever. Also, sorry for not indenting, it's a lot of effort since I usually just hit space 5 times for each paragraph; lately, it doesn't seem to be working though.

THANK YOU <3 for reading, commenting, voting, and following. It means the world to me, truly.