The Last Sprite (ManxMan)

Chapter 9

Dedication: _hateful_, you get the dedication! Wooooo! I'm sorry for giving you nightmares, but I get a lot of inspiration from my nightmares, so I guess in a way, you're welcome! ;D

Chapter 9

I awoke suddenly and simply remained tangled in Jake's strong arms. As I fidgeted under the sheets, he tightened his grip around my body automatically. With a content sigh, I sank into him and nestled into his chest. Listening to his gentle snores reverberate through the otherwise silent night, I had to admit that when Jake and I first started sleeping together, I thought his snores would keep me up, but all this time later, they became a lullaby of sorts. I mean, Jake only snored when he was really tired; it wasn't like he did it constantly. I found myself smiling as I nestled my head against his warm flesh.

Despite the heaviness caking my eyelids, I couldn't sink back into unconsciousness; his lullaby seemed to fall short. Weariness lingered throughout my body from the workout Jake bestowed upon my body just a few hours prior, and my mind felt fuzzy from exhaustion. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I wiggled out from under Jake's touch, paying careful attention not to wake him.

Jake had the next day off, and he deserved to sleep in.

As I stretched, my elbows cracking in a loud protest, I lulled over the fact that Jake worked two jobs without a single complaint. I barely managed to function normally on a day to day basis. How in the hell did he manage working so much plus dealing with me?

Too tired for self loathing, my subconscious grumbled, and I agreed. All I needed was sleep, but the desert that formed in my mouth screamed otherwise. I began towards the bathroom for a sip of water but heard Lump crying downstairs. With a quick, slightly annoyed eye roll, I unsteadily hobbled down the stairs. Yawning and rubbing awareness into my eyes, I found Lump standing in the window once again.

It stood on its hind legs and pawed frantically at the glass as a near constant low whine escaped its mouth. A floorboard creaked under my feet as I neared the cat; the sound echoed like a cannon ball blast through the night, and Lump sharply yanked its head in my direction. In the moonlight, I could see its eyes; they burned with something that looked almost like concern.

"What's wrong?" I asked; my voice sounded like it was riddled with gravel.

Lump leapt from the window and caught me utterly off guard as it sat just an inch away from my feet. Taking its paw, Lump began gently pawing at my toes while looking up at me and meowing frantically. It's little cat face appeared to almost wrinkle in distress.

My first thought was that Lump needed to go outside. "You're such a diva," I groaned, stepping towards the front door. I figured Lump refused to use its litter box much like it refused to eat its food; however, when my hand made contact with the doorknob, Lump let out a howl that instantly caused my skin to prickle.

"Jesus," I gasped, stepping back from the door. "What the hell's up with you?"

Lump howled again, louder and jumped back into the window. Back on its legs, it began scratching at the glass.

It's trying to get your attention, my subconscious whispered.

A chill crept down my spine as I wrapped my arms around myself. Inhaling deeply, I inched towards the window and stared out into the clearing. As I did, Lump stopped its pawing and fell deathly silent. Together, we stared across the clearing, and our eyes settled on an all to familiar sight; the ancient tree stood like a glowing beacon in the moonlight.

Blinking a few times, I groaned loudly and ran a hand down my face in total exasperation. "Well," I grumbled, "that's not surprising." I had hoped that everything would just stay normal; I hoped that we could just forget all the weird crap, but I knew deep down that I didn't have that luxury.