Inversion [Camp NaNoWriMo July 2021]

day 19

d a y   1 9

I've spent the past three days hiding in the apartment, alternating between playing guitar and watching Supernatural, to the point where I'm sick of both. Guitar especially.

I'm halfway through the third season of Supernatural, watching a particularly dreary episode where Dean keeps dying, when Cian returns from his shift at Melissa's. I don't return his greeting and just continue to stare at the TV, only half paying attention.

Any progress I might have made these past weeks seems to have flown right out the window with the reminder that these four weeks aren't for me to be enjoying myself. My only job is to make sure that Jeremy stays alive. Anything else is secondary.

"Okay, no more Supernatural." Cian appears in front of me, blocking the TV, and I blink dully up at him. "This is not a show to be bingeing when you're upset." He grabs the remote from the arm of the couch and turns off the TV, before crossing his arms and scowling down at me. "You need to get out of the apartment. Get some fresh air."

"And if I run into Kelly?"

Cian gives me a half smile. "However invested she might be in figuring out your secret, I don't think she'd sacrifice a Friday night. And I don't think her parents would allow her to be on this side of town so late, after what happened a few months ago."

"So that's what this has come to?" My voice remains flat. "Hiding and sneaking out at night?"

"At least you'd be getting out," he retorts, taking a step towards me. I have to tilt my head back to look at him, but instead I just look sideways at the wall. "I know you're scared, but this month isn't supposed to be a punishment. It's a chance for your dad to reflect on the cost of his wish."

"It's a waste of a month where Jeremy's life is at risk every time I leave the apartment." No heat in my words. Just the cold, brutal truth.

"Your life is not the cost of this." Cian's tone is edged as he takes another step. He leans down and braces his hands on the back of the couch on either side of my head, forcing me to look at him.

"That's exactly what the cost is!" I snap back at him, baring my teeth. "Do you call this 'life'?" I wave at his apartment, sneering. "As a guest in this apartment, nothing to do aside from watching TV or playing guitar or wandering around outside as little more than a ghost? No family or friends, no future."

Cian snarls right back at me. "Would you rather be dead?"

"I basically am!" I glare up at him. "That's the whole point of this, isn't it? Making sure I have no place in the real world. Do you think anyone would be content to be in this position? Stuck in this apartment, with only you for company?"

I immediately regret my words.

Cian flinches, a harsh breath escaping as he straightens and backs up a step. His hands curl into fists, but not fast enough for me to miss the way his fingers tremble.

"Cian—"

"I don't care." His voice goes flat, flatter than mine had been, his expression shuttered. He moves to leave the living room, and I scramble up, reaching out to grip his wrist.

"I'm sorry," I breathe.

"Let go." Brittle words.

I do, even though I know he'll storm out of the apartment. But I can't bear the thought of maintaining that contact, of forcing that on him.