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ғᴏᴜʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

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DEVI BHATT

My eyes flutter. Dark red hair.

That's all it takes for my eyes to snap open. I shoot up from my lying position on the bed, panting and scouring the room for her. Sweat glides in droplets down my back and the side of my forehead.

It's impossible for her to be here.

A small gust of wind catches under the curtains, which cover the patio door. I saw red hair. I know I did. My fingers twist and grip the sheets splayed around me as I turn my head repeatedly around the room searching for her.

I was not hallucinating. I felt something- or someone, rather next to me on my bed. Panic fills me with each passing silent second. The sound of crashing waves fills the eerie silence but it does nothing to calm me.

Crawling forward on the bed, I try to peer out the small gap out the door.

"Is anyone there?" I whisper but it comes out as a scared hiss.

An owl hoots outside.

I retreat backwards on my bed until my feet hit the headboard. Almost on cue, the contents on my bedside table fall off. I swallow a scream. If I scream I'd wake someone up then i'd feel bad. They'd think I was seeing and hearing things.

Music floats through the air- i think, unless it's a hallucination. The same fucking classical music from the bathroom. My heart can't help but spike. If I had a heart monitor attached to me I'm sure it would look like I'm having a heart attack right now.

The music is faint. Only someone with keen ears would be able to hear it. Then it stops and I relax- well, almost. My focus diverts from the patio door to the floor. Slowly I crawl around the edge of the double bed raking my eyes across every inch of floor in search of my foot prints (or people crawling).

No-one. Absolutely no-one. I'm going mad.

My chest collapsed in somewhat relief but peaked anxiety. They could still be here, but I just can't see them. Pushing that thought to the back of my head, I shuffle back under the covers, still laying stiffly on my back, my eyes flitting across the room every few moments.

I feel my heart soothe and slow down. My lips part in a somewhat satisfied sigh as I close my eyes slightly before turning onto my left to try and go back to sleep.

"Did you like the music?" her voice floats through the air, reigniting my heightened fear and anxiety all in one.

She's straddling me with a hand glued to my mouth before I can scream. "It's your Russian's favourite," she remarks, her smirk is literally glowing in the dark.

My chest moves up and down rapidly as I lay there frozen in terror. In terror of how the fuck she knew where we were and how quick she's come. Who's to doubt there won't be others?

All my past reflexes kick back into me as I address this familiar situation. I bite down on her fingers, hard, until I hear her bones crunch. She retracts her hand almost immediately, assessing the damage and pulling out a knife to hold me at my neck.

"I'd prefer if you didn't bite me like a dog right now, Amore," she growls quietly.

I sneer at her. "Get off me. Now."

"Or what?" she cocks her head, leaning down onto me whilst digging that knife into me. "You'll bite me? I don't think I'm interested in being your chew toy."