The End of Eden

XXIX

We missed breakfast.

We pass by people as they head out for the day to work whatever job they have for Eden, and everyone greets us, whether it's a short "good morning!" or a wave. Four silently nods his head at everyone, while I squeeze his hand as I walk behind him, offering only a quiet "good morning" on occasion.

We are almost to the kitchen when I am shoulder checked. I bump into Four's back, and he spins and holds onto my hand to keep me balanced. We silently watch a blonde head turn from our direction and run to catch up with her group. There was no apology offered, on either of our parts, or a greeting, or anything for that matter.

Annabelle bumped into me on purpose, and I can see the carefully controlled animosity in Four's eyes as he watches the retreating form of Annabelle, my hand tucked securely in his.

When we are alone, outside of the kitchens, Four pulls me into him to face him. I look up into his gorgeous eyes, and I am momentarily stunned by them, one of my hands still tucked into his.

"She is a problem," he says quietly, brushing his hand down my hair, exposing my neck. His thumb traces over the mark on my neck, his eyes dipping to it then back to mine. "She will have to be dealt with soon. We promised you, no harm would come of her from our hands. You may release us at any time from it."

My eyes fall from his, and look in the direction she has gone in.

I see him.

He is watching us. Again.

My heart kicks up a notch again, and then I shift my eyes back to Four.

"I... don't know," I say honestly. " I don't know what to do with her. She has had so many chances it seems like to treat me normally, but she isn't."

She is a threat to you, my love.

"What?" I ask, and Four arches an eyebrow at me. It's then I realize he didn't actually say anything to be at all, for those two seconds of silence. I glance back behind him, and Sleep is gone now. My stomach hollows out, and I touch it. I'm probably just hungry, and that's why I am not thinking straight. "We should eat."

Four holds open the kitchen doors for me, and walks me into the kitchen, where we find Serra eating her own meal, sitting on a stool, flipping through her own book. She stands and puts her hands on her hips when she sees me.

"I thought I said no more missed meals, girl," she admonishes me, then turns to Four. "I'll make her something hearty. Pancakes should do the trick."

Four nods silently, and pauses after he turns away, and after Serra walks to the pantry to start making pancakes.

"Please eat something," he whispers, and I look up at him. His eyes alone make my stomach flip inside me, and I wonder, not for the first time, and certainly not the last, what the rest of him looks like under the mask. "Eat for me, little bird."

And I'm smiling wide as he brushes my waist with his fingertips, and I'm forgetting about my night, forgetting about Sleep, and Annabelle, and the strange feeling I have inside my head. I watch him after he steps back out into Eden, and I look down at the ground, the smile still spread across my face.

When I finally look back up, Serra is watching me, a knowing grin on her face.

We end up making pancakes together, and she fries two eggs for me, and slices fresh fruit and tomatoes as I brew a cup of tea. By the time my stomach is screaming in agony for food, we finally sit down at the same countertop, and eat breakfast together. I'm ravenous, having missed too many meals over the last few days or so. I end up eating everything that we have made, and then feeling sick to my stomach afterward.

"I think I ate too much," I groan, lowering my head to the cool countertop. Serra tsks as she clears away the dirty plates, and ends up walking me back to my room, leaving me with a pitcher of water on the table beside my bed after I kick off my shoes and lay down.

It's not long before there's a tap on my door, and then it opens and closes, and Four is sitting beside me. The side of my face is pressed against the pillow, and he chuckles, his hand resting on my back. He kicks off his own shoes, and props his legs up on the mattress, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his hands, still not covered with any black pain, start a soothing circle around my back.

"All that matters is that you ate something," he says, his head resting against the headboard. I see from the corner of my eyes his own eyes have closed.

I so badly want to roll over and rip the mask from his face, to kiss him, to free us of our clothes and make love, but my stomach feels full to bursting, and I can feel the pull of rest dragging me... dragging me under.

Sleep only watches us in my dreams. I see myself tucked into my bed, my eyes closed, Four sitting beside me, his eyes closed as well, his hand still on my back. He watches us, resting together, but apart. And I know he years to feel me again.

To fill me again.

I'm pulled from my dreams when the warmth of Four beside me leaves, and my eyes crack open to find him slipping on his shoes before he stands up. And then, beyond Four, I see Three. His eyes meet mine, and then he's looking back at Four, whispering something.

My eyes fall closed again, until I feel the weight shift on my bed, and then the door opens, and closes again.

Wake up.

"You threw a pillow at Sleep."

My eyes snap open and I lift my head up to peer at Three, who is looking into the corner of the room where Sleep sat and watched me nap, where he sat last night. The pillow is still laying there in a heap, and I sit up slowly.

"How would you know that?" I ask, crossing my legs underneath me. Three turns his eyes to me and I can see him smile below his mask.

"He told me," he replied, and then he turns to the dark corner of my room again.

"In your dreams," I clarify. I know the vessels are all visited by Sleep in their dreams. "In your dreams, right? Or when we chew the salvia?"

"Always, he is always with us," Three says, pointing to the dark corner, "always on the edge of vision, needing to fall under to see him, to speak to him."

I do not dare to turn my head to see where he points. Three's eyes meet mine again, and he lowers his hands.

"Dreaming while waking. You see, you hear, you feel that which no one else can."

"I don't want it," I whisper. Three is looking at the dark corner of the room again. "I don't want to see him, his mouth, his tentacles. I don't want to be bit by him, or swallowed whole by him."

"He is ours, and we are his, to do as he pleases," Three says, ignoring my voiced wishes.

I don't want to turn my head to see where Three was pointing, but an unnatural curiosity forces me to turn my head.

And he's there. Sitting in the same dark corner of my room, beside the pillow I threw at him. He watches Three and I. Like how he watched us the first full moon we had together. I saw him, and I told Three he was there... but did Three see him then, too?

I turn my head back to Three. His eyes are on me again.

Sleep is real.

And it seems only his bride sees him.