Sera-XVI

585 20 3
                                    

4:27 A.M.

I turned the glowing red numbers away from me. All it did was taunt me. I had given up on sleep nearly an hour ago because my mind had refused to stop running a thousand miles an hour. Replaying that almost-kiss with Vessel, imagining what would have happened if I had actually done it. I had wanted to, and I think he knew that, but I couldn't give in to my own temptations. He didn't deserve for me to kiss him when I harbored so many secrets behind my lips. I had a liars' mouth and my sins tasted sour in it. I refused to poison him just to satisfy my own selfish needs.  

I sat up and threw the covers off of me, deciding to get an early start rather than chase dreams that would never come. Besides, It was going to take me at least an hour to get that paint mark off the door. I decided last time that bleach might have been my best option but it would still take some scrubbing. 

I forwent putting on actual day clothes, deciding that I would change around the time that I would normally wake up anyways. I gently open my door and make my way out into the hallway, heading towards the kitchen for a cup of tea. 

Something in me makes me stop. Maybe it was the need for validation that what happened wasn't in my head. Though, I knew it wasn't, I still turned my head to look back at the bathroom door. 

It- It's gone.

I had to blink my eyes to make sure I was seeing correctly. It really was gone. It couldn't be. I scurried over to the door and looked closer. There were faint smears of grey that told me it had been there, just not for long. Did Vessel actually clean it? 

I hadn't kissed him, and yet he cleaned it anyways. My attention turned down the hall towards his bedroom door. It didn't make sense, he was so adamant in his challenge. I had every intention of holding up my end of the bargain. Even if I hadn't, he was technically my boss. By all accounts, he could have made me clean it regardless. 

Emphasis on BOSS

I shouldn't be having the thoughts I have about him, nor should I have any temptations. Between me essentially putting on a show for him in the living room, banging on his door in nothing but a towel, and almost kissing him, I've crossed far more lines than I should have. I needed to bring myself back down from this alternate universe I've let myself dream up. 

With a shake of my head, all of my less-than-professional thoughts of Vessel tumbled away. I straightened my spine and pushed my shoulders back. A new wave of determination washed over me. I just had to remember what pushed me here in the first place to give myself the strength to push down any unwanted feelings towards the masked man. 

I made my way into the kitchen and fixed my cup of tea. I decided to sit down in the seat Vessel usually sits in while I sipped on it. It wasn't an easy task but I was able to keep any thoughts of him from my mind for a few minutes while I drank my tea. 

Instead, I focused more on what I could get done today. The kitchen could use a good deep clean and it was the room Vessel spent less time in. I had decided that putting some distance between us might help diffuse some of these wild emotions, being in close proximity to one another would only lead to trouble. 

A loud, anguished yell thundered through the house, making me jump and almost spilling my tea in the process. My heart pounded against my rib cage as the cries continued from down the hall. I dropped my cup onto the counter and raced down the hall to his room. I stopped when I reached the door and contemplated my next move with my hand frozen mid-air. Do I knock or just open the door? It could just be a bad dream, but then again he could be hurt. Another roar from the other side had made my mind up for me. I firmly grasped the door knob, only to find it was locked. Damn.

In a panic, I began banging loudly on his door. The pounding was drowned out as the cries grew louder and longer. Eventually, I gave up knocking and dropped to the floor. I pressed my face to the ground and attempted to peer underneath the door. In the small sliver of moonlight, I could see him curled on the floor, shirtless and unpainted, with his back to me. In the dark I could make out the outline of his hair, but not the color.  He shook violently as another roar ripped out of his throat. 

I couldn't do anything. All I could do was watch helplessly as he screamed and kicked his feet out. At one point he began clawing the floor, but he never turned over. I couldn't watch anymore, so I raised myself up and pressed my forehead against the door. I had never heard someone scream so much. It was as if he were in intense pain but there was nothing that could be done. 

With every yell, guilt washed over me in tidal waves. I desperately wanted to help him, wanted to guard him against whatever nightmare he was being plagued with, but I was stuck behind this door. Tears threatened to prick my eyes, but I blinked them away. This was not my time to shed tears. 

After nearly an hour, the cries finally softened into whimpers. I peeked underneath the door again to find him in the same position but with one leg straightened and breathing heavily. The sun was just beginning to come up, casting the room in a soft morning blue. He looked calm, peaceful even. If I hadn't been there to witness it myself, I'd have never known the hell that ensued there. 

I decided then that my best course of action would be to pretend as if I had never seen it, or heard it. I wasn't sure if this was a normal occurrence or not, but either way,  if he didn't want attention being brought to it the least I could do is respect that. I also didn't want him to feel like I had invaded his privacy by watching him from underneath his door. I felt like such a creep for it but I couldn't tear myself away from it. 

I got up and softly padded my way back to the kitchen to find that the cup had fallen off the bar and shattered on the floor. I carefully stepped around it and went to the closet to grab the broom and dustpan. The glass shards clanked against each other as I brushed them into the dustpan. As of now, it was the loudest sound in the house, and it was deafening. 

What's Said in SilenceWhere stories live. Discover now