• C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - N I N E •

the one with
trouble sleeping

The group was exhausted and each immediately went to their respective room the moment they arrived. Allen was seconds away from collapsing, his lack of sleep catching up to him, and overpowering his dread. Ethan already dozed off when he got inside the bedroom after brushing his teeth, and Allen took a discarded pillow from next to him so he could sleep on his side with two pillows behind him to prevent himself from sleeping on his back. It wasn't an effective method, but he was desperate to try.

Chloe unzipped her bag to change, blinking up at the sound of shifting by the door. Her body froze at the sight of Bilal standing by the doorway, a small smile on his lips. He had changed into a white Henley shirt and plain dark pants. She swallowed, tearing her eyes away from the cotton fabric hugging his chest and meeting his gaze.

"Hey," he mumbled, and she smiled, standing up straight. Her pulse took off at the thought he wanted to talk to her. Bilal wasn't much of a talker, and when he had something to say, it would usually be important.

Would it be about her phone call? About their situation (1)? Mona?

Bilal ushered behind her with a nod. "I just need a pillow from the closet."

Oh.

Chloe pressed her lips in a thin line. "Sure." She nodded, not sure whether she was relieved or irritated.

He nodded and walked past her to the closet while she stood near the foot of the bed, following him with her gaze. But then a thought popped inside her head and she took a quick look around the room while he took out a pillow and a light blanket. It was neat, ordered, minimal, neutral colors - which wasn't so different from his apartment.

Something clicked.

"Is this your room?" She gaped at him.

He hummed as he nodded, moving past her to leave. She was quick to catch his upper arm, pulling him back.

"Wait, wait. I'll move." She hurried to say, crouching down to zip her bag and hook it around her shoulder.

He frowned. "Why?"

She met his eye, holding herself tighter. "I'm not sleeping in your room." She shook her head, stating it like a fact but it made him cock his head in slight amusement.

"Why not?"

Chloe debated speaking but settled on a shrug, distracted by their proximity, her brain urging her to take a step closer while the rational side raised warning flags.

Bilal chuckled. "I'll take the couch. Good night, Chlo."

But the last thing she was able to do was sleep. She was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, digging her nails inside the skin of her earlobe as her thoughts raced. It was almost 2 AM, and the guilt was clawing at her insides, toppling the nerves that came from being engulfed with everything related to him.

She had already taken the liberty to shamelessly snoop around, but, just like when it came to his demeanor, she found absolutely nothing. This room felt more like an empty space and she wondered how he was able to tolerate the black and white - she could never (2).

It was when she accidentally hurt her ear, her nail scratching a little too roughly she feared she drew blood, that she hopped off the bed and pushed herself outside into the living room.

She took purposeful steps to reach him, the sight of him lying on the couch pulling at her gut.

"Wake up," she hissed.

Bilal's eyes peeled open and she startled, expecting him to put up a bit of a fight.

"Why are you still up?" She gaped at him, staring down at her watch.

"Why are you?" He frowned, moving to lie on his back so he could face her.

"Let's switch," she was quick to insist, "I'm sleeping on your bed and you're on this uncomfortable couch."

Bilal snorted, closing his eyes and turning back to his side. "Don't be ridiculous, it's a very comfortable couch," he whispered, voice a little weary.

She felt a little bad for interrupting the peaceful sleep he rarely got - or his attempt - but even worse at the thought of him getting it on the couch. Chloe squirmed but crouched down anyway, shaking him again.

"Bilal," she hissed, "please, I can't sleep."

His eyes peeled heavily open and he frowned. "Why?"

"I'll sleep on the couch, just take the bed."

"No." He rolled on his stomach and closed his eyes.

"I feel bad."

"Don't feel bad."

"Well, I do."

He heaved a sigh through his nose, eyelids open to glare at her. She held his gaze with determination. He propped himself up on his elbow and wiped his face with his other hand, palm resting on his mouth as he studied her. She swallowed, tipping her chin up.

"The couch is fine, Chloe," he said firmly. "Go back to sleep."

"If it's so fine, then I'll sleep here too."

He blinked when she sat down on the other couch, fluffing the pillow. "Are you-Chloe."

She huffed and held his gaze.

"I'll put pillows in the middle," she said, starting to cave when she didn't earn any reaction from him, nothing but his steady, intense gaze as he processed his thoughts. He turned and sat straight up, too tired to argue.

He nodded, hand raking across his short hair. "Fine."

Chloe felt a bubble of excitement before it started to wear down when she followed him to the bedroom, growing increasingly aware of the warmth his body exuded. He reached for the closet to fish out a pillow, placing it in the middle along with another one to create a line between them.

He slid under the covers and for a terrifying second, she started to consider if he didn't want to share a bed with her in the first place. She wanted to extinguish the voice inside her head, trap it in a jar, and bury it in the deepest corners of her brain - because it shouldn't matter.

She didn't want to feel codependent. She didn't want to heal at the expense of someone else. She needed to do this on her own.

So, yes. It shouldn't matter.

It wasn't as high as she hoped, she could still see him.

She couldn't recognize herself, anxious and fidgety, needing to talk to release the pent-up energy. But Bilal was already going back to sleep, his breathing even and a sharp contrast to her wild pulse.

Meanwhile, in the next room, it was the tenth kick from Danielle and it aimed right at Veronica's shin. Veronica tried to keep a safe distance between them but she wasn't better either, she'd take up half the bed at times - and still, she ended up with no covers.
"For fuck's sake," she hissed and decided it was time to take the couch.
Sliding out into the living room with her pillow under her arm - that she hit Danielle with a few times out of spite - she stopped dead in her track at the sight of someone sitting at the kitchen counter. Her pulse cooled when she realized it was Allen, but she felt the sudden captivating fear again and thought of retreating back to the room and sleep on the floor.
But the sight of him made her freeze in place. It became clearer to her that he had showered, curls a little wet and he smelled heavenly even from few feet away. He fixated down at a mug he enclosed between his palms, with mist curling around right in front of him, but he didn't seem to be really here. Pushing herself to get out of her own head, she started to slowly approach him.
His eyes darted to her in a flash, brows pulling together in confusion as he inspected her state. She was sure her appearance screamed the lack of sleep she got - but so did his.
"Why are you awake?" He asked after a while.
She shrugged. "Dan is... kicking. I'm taking the couch."
He nodded with a small 'ah', taking a sip of the warm milk. "You can take my bed," he offered, licking his lips as he put the mug down.
She didn't reply as she studied him carefully. She sensed his slight distress, noticing the dark circles that created a stark difference to the vibrant blue of his eyes. She pulled the pillow to her body and pushed herself to ask, "how come you're awake?"

A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he wiped his free hand across his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and blinking. Veronica remembered she overheard Ethan telling him to at least get ten minutes of sleep on the plane and understanding dawned on her right before he formulated an explanation.

"You had an episode?"

A small wry smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "Yeah."

She had researched that sleep paralysis could happen if he was jet-lagged or lacked sleep, both the options were checked in this situation. She pushed herself to move closer, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

"Was it bad?"

"It's not a new one." His mind certainly was running out of tricks; it was the same one he last experienced, with a dark shadow looming over his body, pressing on his chest, and choking him with a grip of steel. No matter how much he convinced himself to calm down and insisting that it's not real! - he failed, and his survival instinct kicked in and he tried screaming but it was a hopeless attempt. He knew before going to bed that it was inevitable, but he thought he'd be able to control it. "Interestingly, your yelling woke me up."

Veronica felt a fist clench around her heart. "What?"

"You were being loud," he stated with amusement, taking a sip.

"Oh..." She blinked, then shrugged. "Can't say I'm sorry then."

"No." He chuckled.

Silence settled between them, and she felt the need to say something but the claws clogging her throat were tampering it down.

It all suddenly felt fast to her, despite the ungodly slow pace. Allen used to feel untouchable to her, a longing, someone she couldn't ever have and she was able to deal with it - but now all the excuses she came up with crumbled, all the ideas she built up in her head were put to test.

What if he never met her expectations? What if she never met his? What if this whole thing crashed and burned - what then?

Allen wanted to talk to her, about what happened now, about what happened years back. But he didn't want to pressure her, in fear of her running even faster.

"You okay?" He asked. A notch tightened her throat. She nodded.

"Yeah." She swallowed. "Are you?"

He nodded. His leg jittered at the urge to bring up the subject to clear the air. But it wasn't the way.

He wanted to be careful with her because he was starting to understand her. It was obvious to him now that her trust was as fragile as thin glass and any snap - even unintentional ones - would swiftly shatter it all at once.

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the counter.

"Something on your mind?" He asked, gently poking. It was agitating him, the silence. It never did before, but now, it was pulling at his eardrums.

Veronica seemed flustered. She blinked and was quick to shake her head. "No." But she stammered. "Yes-I mean... maybe?"

Allen let out a brief chuckle, taking a sip of his drink. His throat felt dry for some reason.

"Veronica, we can talk about it." He tilted his head, blinking slowly in reassurance. "Tell me."

She shook her head vigorously. "I feel weird."

He frowned. "Why?"

"I don't understand..." She took a step forward and ushered between them, feeling a hot flush creep its way up her neck in embarrassment. "...what this is."

Allen frowned in confusion at first but then his features softened as he understood, a smile curving on his lips. "You do."

Her ribcage felt tight at the sound of his word, constricting the free movement of her wildly beating heart. She hugged herself tightly, and she felt the urge to flick her wrists to relieve the tension, but she didn't want to be obvious. She curled her toes instead, clenching her jaw as every inch of her was stiff.

He watched her, waiting patiently despite the feeling of dread slithering over him like an icy chill. Her thoughts whirled around in her head. She couldn't have him be significant. The thought was too heavy, too terrifying.

She breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly, regulating her erratic breathing. It had been a full minute, but Allen waited, and she blocked him out. The thought of him waiting for her would rail her back to square one.

Once her pulse steadied and her mind cleared, she looked back at him.

"I think..." She started, distracted by the warmth in his blue eyes. She reminded herself to breathe. "I don't think I can handle it if this is going to be something."

There was a long pause and her heart ached when she saw the light in his eyes gradually disappear and leaving her with hollow, empty ones.

"Why?"

"Because it's scary."

His chin tipped up and his eyes darted to look away.

"What do you want it to be?"

"I just-I feel safe when I'm with you," she admitted, feeling her cheeks burn. "I need it to stay that way." Her lungs ached instead of feeling relief. But for this to work, she needed to be eased in. She wanted this. She wanted him. But not like this, not this fast. She had spent years in the shadows, and now having him see her and reciprocate - it was too fast.

Allen inspected her impassively. It took him a moment before the corner of his lips barely lifted into a wry smile.

"I don't think you understand the effect you have on me," he said, so low she almost didn't hear.

She swallowed thickly, looking down. She chuckled softly and shook her head.

"I don't even understand the effect you have on me," she admitted quietly with a shrug.

He remained silent, watching her dig at the skin around her fingernail. He tilted his head, blinking up to study her face, noticing her struggle to remain neutral as she adamantly avoided his eye.

His entire system protested but he nodded.

"Whatever you need."

_______________________________

(1) We all know that's not gonna happen.

(2) Shocker.