He couldn't asleep. He lay in the bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling. Peta was curled beside him. She hadn't taken the ring off before she went to sleep. The diamond reflected the street light outside.
He had acted horribly after the party. She had led him home, helped him out of his soaking clothing. She could see the pain and exhaustion on his face. She tried to cheer him up. She failed. When he was dressed in dry clothes again, she hugged him. "Maks, you did very well today. You saved her. She's good now. I'm so proud of you for what you did today. My knight in shining armor."
But he wasn't her knight in shining armor. He never was. And so he left her arms rather abruptly and walked into the kitchen. Without a second thought, he downed one shot, then another, much to the dismay of his fiancee. "It will take the edge off before I go to sleep. Don't worry. I'm fine."
"Pour me one."
"You don't need it."
"Maks." She reached for his arm.
"We should go to sleep."
He hustled them to bed. It wasn't terribly late. But Peta didn't complain.
"Are you sure everything's okay?" They were in bed. She was running her fingers over his face. He wanted to slap her hand away. He wanted to jump out of the bed and run to his car and drive far away. Instead, he took a deep breath.
"Yeah, I'm just tired. From tonight."
"Tonight was a big night. I'm so excited to be your fiancé." She kissed him on the lips. "Now get some sleep. We can start planning the wedding tomorrow." She smiled as she moved to turn the light off and missed him wipe her kiss off his mouth. Yes, it was juvenile, and yes he had proposed to her today, but for some reason he could not stand her right now.
She was asleep within minutes. She had wrapped his arms around her but he had pulled them back as soon as he was sure she was unconscious.
He tried to fall asleep by counting sheep, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. He couldn't sleep next to her. He couldn't sleep without her.
-------------------------------
She still hid her key in the same place. Under the steps. She had hung them up behind a corner. No one knew about them aside from her closest friends. And him.
He had parked his car in his driveway. It was 3 AM. No one was around. Luckily too. He didn't want anyone, especially a paparazzi, catching what he was about to do.
He didn't knock. He didn't want her to wake up and tell him off. The door wasn't loud. He slipped in without any commotion.
The lights were off. His fingers felt for the wall as he walked towards her room. He almost knocked something over. He caught it at the last moment. A picture frame. He placed it back on the table and continued his walk toward a glow he could see from under a door.
Her bedside lights were on. She was sprawled out on her bed. She wasn't wearing much; whoever had taken her home had helped her out of her dress then laid her out. A light blanket had been thrown over her. Her hair was still wet. She was shaking.
As he got closer he could see the tear marks that streaked her face. He could see minor scratches across her arms, and legs, and stomach. Injuries from the pool perhaps. He hadn't considered them, but looking down at his hands he noticed similar marks.
He leaned across the bed, but she was too far in the middle for him to reach her. So he got on the bed. The mattress sank under his weight. He moved as softly as possible until he was leaning over her. Before he could decide the best way to wake her up, she opened her eyes.
