ecstasy | corpse husband

chapter 7.

corpse's apartment — seattle, washington
new year's night.

elowen isn't sure what to say as she walks into this stranger's apartment.

the door clicks behind her as he shuts it, sealing away the incessant sound of barking mixed with the pounding coming from downstairs where they'd left those insane people outside the building.

they were being chased, pursued, by terrorists and she doesn't know why. or what they want.

it was hard to follow what was going on at all anymore.

her gaze scans the quaint studio apartment, observing silently. the room is washed in cool tones and moonlight. there's a small kitchen to her left, surprisingly clean—or unused. on the right side, a narrow door she assumes leads to a bathroom. in front of her, a sofa and a giant, dark grey love sac in front of a medium-sized television that's mounted on the left wall. the right side holds a black wood dresser with a laptop sitting on it. and that's it.

the space feels... lonely.

she inches into the room hesitantly. the furthest wall is entirely transparent, a window for a wall, and the top floor of the building provides a decent view of the city despite the heavy fog. the lights from the cars and streetlamps alike gleam blearily. 

a small detail piques her attention. "no bed?" she wonders aloud while turning to face him. he has his back still pressed to the door, gaze fixed on her.

"pullout sofa," he says plainly. she should have figured.

"do you live alone?" she can assume he does but still asks. he only nods.

elowen feels on edge as she watches him walk further into the room. not because of anything in particular he's doing, but the situation at hand. it's until the silence looms over them, making it starkly clear that she is alone with him in his apartment, a guy she met not even two hours ago, that regret stirs in her stomach.

she is breaking the one order her father gave her.

he knows what's best for her; he knows what'll keep her safe. hell, he'd even told her she couldn't trust mason. her boyfriend. if he were to find out where she is right now, he'd be worried sick. she hates to disappoint him.

but if it weren't for this intimidating, snarky asshole who looks like he just rolled out of bed, would she still even be alive at this moment?

the stranger steps in front of her, a glass of water she hadn't noticed he filled in his hands. he offers it to her but she cautiously declines. he seems off put.

"what are you thinking about?" his throaty voice fills her ears, almost echoing in the vacant-feeling apartment.

she doesn't know where to even begin in answering his question. "I'm sorry," is all she can find herself muttering.

his eyebrows knit together, and she explains. "you didn't want a burden and because of me, you almost died twice." technically, three times but the first time was his own doing. "I don't even know your freaking name."

he brushes past the name comment. "maybe we should start there. want to tell me what the fuck you were thinking running into that street just now?" the words don't sound harsh as he says them. he seems genuinely confused and only slightly annoyed.

elowen chews the inside of her lip thoughtfully. she doesn't want to sound crazy but her actions already spoke to that. "that... guy in the street. he was going to die. the semi was coming and he wasn't moving."

"so?" he remarks, dumbfounded. she had thrown herself in front of a speeding semi.

"I underestimated how fast the truck was coming." she knows this isn't a sufficient explanation, but it's the best she's willing to give him. "he died, didn't he? the guy in the street?"