My Precious Nightmare

Chapter 33: Candy Surrender

Husani brushed his fingers across the sleeping girl's hair. He couldn't recall the last time he had found someone so precious that just a few strands of their hair filled him with wonder. It kept him up long after he tucked Lea into her bed and sat down next to it, despite the shouting in his head to leave now and never return. The first rays of morning sun had lulled him into a few hours of sleep, but when he woke up she was still there, just as he had left her, closed eyelids swollen and shiny.

He should have left then. He meant for her hair to be his last touch of her. But he thought that he should remember this, as it would be the last he'd feel or see of her. He lingered longer and longer.

When her eyes finally opened, he knew he had lost his last chance to do the right thing.

But he just...couldn't help it. He was trapped. It was almost as though he had lost all free will to his heart, trembling in agony at the thought of leaving. The last week without her had been...

He should have never met her.

"This can't be happening to me," he whispered.

"What?" asked Lea drowsily, her voice still hoarse from sobbing.

He stared into her eyes, wondering if he dared to tell her; wondered if it even mattered.

"Your alarm went off an hour ago," he said, looking away.

"It's Saturday. I don't have school."

"Oh. Huh. Never really paid much attention to schools."

"Um, I don't mean to sound rude, but—"

"Don't worry, I'm leaving." But even then, he couldn't bring himself to move—to just stand and walk out of the house. Horrified, he gave the only excuse he could think of: "Or, I would be, if I had my sunglasses. I hadn't planned on staying this long at all." That didn't really get him out. "I also wanted to make sure you'd be okay."

She blinked at him with those poor, swollen eyes and stretched. There was even a delicate sort of vulnerability to the way she did that. Then she just sat there, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, probably not even aware of the almost imperceptible, adorable sleepy grunts and sighs she made as she did so.

"Husani?"

He stiffened. "Yes?"

"What am I to you?"

He inwardly clenched down hard at that. His heart sped up a notch. "You mean as a friend or...not?"

She set her hands into the pool of fluffy blanket and sheet in her lap. The fluff nearly swallowed those tiny, delicate things whole. "Am I food to you? An experiment? A tool? Some sort of...hoped for salvation? Has everything you've done up to this point just to manipulate me or something? I'm sorry, I'm not very good at being indirect or believing someone is lying, even if I'm certain they are."

The uncomfortable clench about his chest was worse than the apprehension of her suspecting his affections.

"Lea," he started, then swallowed, his mouth dry but his hands wet. He didn't want her to think poorly of him. He didn't want to hurt her. But wouldn't it be better if she didn't know?

But why? If she knew of his adoration, or even a fragment of the emptiness he had become without her, what would it hurt? It wasn't like she could return his affections—he, the self-righteous kidnapper who brought about the change of her best friend. But, if, by some sick twist of fate—or curse of heaven—she did feel the same way—

But she couldn't. They had only known each other for, what, little over a week? And if so, why did he feel so strongly? It had to be just the remains of his lonely human heart overcompensating for all the time he had kept himself isolated.