July, 2019

When day broke and my eyes opened, the bed was empty. He had left before I had even woken. No note this time. Not even a text later in the day. If it hadn't been for the ache between my legs and the large bruise on my neck, I'd assume I hallucinated it all again.

I tried to go about my day as if I weren't experiencing the symptoms of whiplash. Though it was hard to not glance at my phone every ten minutes to see if he had reached out.

I started to assume last night was our last hurrah. Now that I knew it was him, now that I didn't cry myself to sleep, perhaps he was done with me.

Until, on queue, at 10pm the door creaked open.

He didn't greet me, though he wasn't surprised this time to find me awake.

He merely shimmied out of his clothes once more and joined me in bed, ignoring me staring at him like he'd grown two heads.

We sat on our phones for a while, me scrolling aimlessly while he read some novel. Then, half an hour later, he reached over and turned out the light, rolling onto his side as if this were our normal night routine.

I sat there in the dark, staring at his form in my bed, my heart aching more and more in the seconds of silence that passed.

Was I supposed to pretend everything was okay? That I could go on without us having acknowledged the hurt we caused each other?

Or... in some strange way... were we fine now? Did he just have plans today that stopped him from reaching out?

He rolled over, glancing at me in the darkness for a few moments before he whispered, "Can't you sleep?"

"I... no," I admitted.

"Come here," he replied, opening his arms wide to me.

Hesitantly, I scooted down into the bed and into his hold.

He pulled me further into his embrace, hand smoothing out my hair, mouth pressing whispered kisses on top of my head.

The bond string around my heart fluttered with delight, though my brain danced with doubt. What's going on here? Why is he here? Why is he comforting me? Has he forgiven me? Are we together again? Or is all of this a result of the bond?

"Stop thinking," he breathed.

"It's very hard to do that."

"Shall I distract you again?" His lips were already on my neck as he waited for my answer.

A part of me knew I should push him away. That another night of proximity followed by distance would destroy me.

Nonetheless, when his lips brushed over the sensitive bruise he left from his bite last night, I caved.

Hands dipping down, I rubbed over his boxers, relishing in how hard he already was.

And it was enough of an answer for him.

He dipped under the covers, dragged down my underwear, and made me forget any thoughts that weren't him and pleasure.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

The next few days repeated the same pattern. I'd wake to an empty bed, and wait for his figure to return in the late hours of the night.

We'd spend most of the night entangled in each other as liquids leaked into the bed, as Lukas got his fill of blood, and we were both so exhausted that it was easy to let sleep take us after.

Though I'd be lying if I said waking up to vacant sheets didn't destroy me a little more each day.

By the fifth day, I finally ventured out of the house in search for him this time.

I had to confirm what was going on between us.

Even if he asked me to wait until he was ready to talk, there were other ways for me to be sure about whether there was still an us.

Which was why I ended up at the Hammersmith House.

His bedroom was empty when I arrived, so I followed the noises down to the basement, where Erica sat on the couch, laptop open.

Her eyes flickered up at me, widening at the sight.

"What on earth happened to you?" she asked, gaze dancing over my neck.

"I... uh..." I stumbled, unsure what to even say. So instead I replied with, "Is Lukas here?"

A coy look took her face as she seemed to clue into who did this to me. Though then she replied, "He's at the school, I believe, finalising tomorrow's plans about capturing the Made."

"Oh... I see." I stood there for a moment, deliberating going to the library and heading home. It's not like the last time we ran into each other there went well... or the time before that.

"He shouldn't be much longer," she then said. "Why don't you wait for him?"

"Okay." I sat down on the couch next to her.

Erica closed her laptop in response. "It's been a while... since it was just the two of us."

"Yeah."

"... How are you holding up?"

"I'm... I'm okay. Lukas has been..."

She waited for me to finish my sentence.

Yet I didn't know how. Because... has he been helpful? He's been there. Though it's not like he's been helping me process my emotions.

When I didn't say anything, she replied, "I can see he's been."

"Stop," I muttered, feeling the heat wash over my face.

She giggled. "So... you two have made up?"

"I... I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Well..." I paused, thinking through how to justify the past week. Though just when I fashioned up a way to explain everything and finally get my worries off my chest to someone, the door opened.

"Hey, Ri, have you seen the..." he trailed off as he stepped into the room, eyes zeroing in straight on me. "Why are you here?"

I hesitated, wondering what the right thing to say was. Because the look of annoyance on his face was hard to miss. "I... I was just..." I fumbled for the right thing to say. Do I tell him I was looking for him? That I came to speak to Erica? That I was just leaving? What did he want to hear? Why didn't I know what to even say to him anymore? Especially after all the nights we've spent together recently...

"What type of way is that to greet your girlfriend?" Erica then responded for me.

Though Lukas's face contorted as he replied, "Girlfriend?"

The last shred of hope disappeared with his derision. As my eyes started to sting, I avoided those in the room studying my reaction. Instead, I stumbled to my feet. "I'll see you later, Erica," I said to her, before all but fleeing from them.

How embarrassing, a voice in my head mocked. To think you actually thought you meant something to him.

You're just an easy fuck.

And you're too stupid to realise you mean nothing to him anymore.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

To my disbelief, the door opened at the usual time and Lukas strolled on.

He peeled off his clothes.

He climbed into the bed.

He turned off the light.

And he pulled me into his body.

Like nothing had happened.

Like this was the normal, right thing to do.

It felt like ants were crawling over my skin. As if my intestines had turned into worms, sliding around in search for an exit. Yet I remained frozen, unable to do anything or say anything.

My tenseness didn't go unnoticed.

His lips started to press on my neck.

His hands fumbled up my shirt, over my stomach.

And I dug deep within me to find what little voice I had left so that I could utter, "Stop."

"Hmm?" he mumbled against my neck.

"Stop touching me," I said a little louder.

He moved back from my neck, hands retreating from under my shirt. Though he hovered. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Really?"

He paused, which told me he had some clue as to what was bothering me. But he ignored it. Like he always did. Instead saying, "How about a sleeping spell tonight?"

I wanted to shout at him.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to beg him to notice me, to end this standoff, to speak to me.

Though I couldn't bring myself to. Because what if he admitted my deepest fears? What if he said that all that was left to us now was our bond? Our physical attraction?

Which was why I ended up mumbling, "You have a big day tomorrow. You should go home to sleep."

He hesitated.

And I stupidly hoped. Say no. Say you'll stay. That we will talk this out. That you need me. That you can't sleep without me.

But instead he said, "Yeah. You're right." So he climbed out of bed, slipped his clothes back on, and left me alone with the demons.