Dreaming with you

Chapter 10

Bastian

It was two in the afternoon when I woke up. Everything that happened night before came back to me in a second. A dinner, crash, hospital and her. She was now injured in my house. Was that a record or what?

I focused to hear her breathing in a room close to mine, but I heard nothing. I could hear someone in the kitchen an I knew it was her, not just because of her favoring an uninjured leg, but because William was so much quieter.

I jumped from the bed when my brain finally regained function.

She was in the kitchen which meant close to the fridge. Which contained a shelf full of blood bags. Why haven't I dealt with it last night?

Yes, I was too busy drinking the same bags to heal my hand and occupied listening her movement in her room.

Stalkish much?

I run to the living room and saw her calm, closing the fridge door with some juice in her hand. She probably haven't seen it yet. Thank god.

She spin to the table and saw me. "Good morning Bastian", she said sitting on the stool, unaware of how high that shirt of mine had risen. "Were you that hungry that you forgot to dress?" She smiled, and I could see a faint blush on her cheeks.

I looked at myself. Damn. I wore boxers with Edward Cullen's faces painted on them. William thought they were hilarious and bought them just to make fun of me for reading the books. I am sorry they don't sparkle, he said when he gave them to me. I wore them to bed, they were surprisingly comfortable. Thank god I didn't sleep naked last night.

"Sorry", I said, and went to put some clothes on. I knew she probably saw almost naked or naked men before, but I was raised in different times, in which this was totally inappropriate. It didn't mean I would tell her to do the same. Those legs of her will kill me.

When I came back she settled on the sofa, which was probably more comfortable for her leg. I found a blanked and put over her legs.

"Don't catch a cold", I told her. "When are your stuff coming?"

They should arrive this afternoon. Kelly sent them in the morning.

Like all vampires I had heightened senses, but writers always exaggerate on that subject. We weren't superman. Now I could feel strong emotions radiating from her. But I was as bad as Emily at reading people. She, maybe even worse than me. Always reading people wrong. Mistaking passion and lust for love, anger for hate. It was like she didn't want to read them at all.

I would give all my collections of marvel comic books for her thoughts. Thoughts my mother could read in second. But I was a grown man. Too grown to be true, and I should be able to do this, to cope with every situation. In this case my desire for the girl.

She was holding one hand in other. She was nervous. That much I could tell. We talked for a while about Emily and why she doesn't live with us anymore. Because of that incident with her last boyfriend.

"I hope she will forgive you. You were just trying to protect her. But I can imagine how you dealt with situation. I have big brother, you can be hard sometimes."

"Yeah, my mother told me not to give Emily a hard time. You know, she is a writer like yourself."

"Really?" Amanda was excited to hear that. "What does she write?"

"I believe your genres are vastly different. She is psychoanalyst, so you can imagine what her books look like."

"I get it. She can be bff with my father. He likes to get into other people's heads."