What It Seems | Wattys 2023

Chapter 22

BAYLOR

A piercing scream woke me in the middle of the night, and it wasn't far away, either. My eyes bolted open. I sat up, shocked, and the screaming came from the person lying beside me. Once my eyes became clear, I stared at the girl that my vision made it out to be - Adalynne.

"Adalynne, wake up!" I shook her constantly, her body rocking with the constant movement from my arms. "Adalynne!" I bellowed.

I pulled her body into mine, her head in the curve of my neck. Sobs filled my ears, and for the next few minutes, I ran my free hand through her hair and my other ran up and down her back. She was calming down, but her air was skimpy.

Adalynne's door burst open with Aiden standing in the doorway, Jo behind him, both worried. Relief flooded both of their faces. Aiden kept sharing glances between his little sister and me, and he held an expression of assurance. I waved him off, practically telling him to go back to bed.

"I'm scared," a faint whisper came from her lips along with a sob.

"What are you afraid of? Nothing's gonna get you, I'm here," I assured the sobbing person I held in my arms.

"Please don't go," she pleaded. My hand ran through her hair, massaged her scalp, and twirled the soft, shiny hair between my long fingers. I ran my digits along her spine, her body tensing as goose bumps rose against her soft skin.

"I'm not gonna leave," I promised. "Are you cold?" I asked. She nodded dimly against my neck, and I pulled the duvet over us.

"What are you scared of?" I queried formerly once more.

"I don't wanna go back on that plane." She sounded just like a little girl, crying, pleading.

"You're not, I promise."

She sniffled, "I'm so tired."

I pulled the cover up to the top of her shoulders, the cover resting flatly over her petite, fragile body, the cotton cascading around our bodies in warmth. The scent reminded me of home; its fragrance of fabric softener, like it was soaked in it. There was only one question that I wanted to know about.

"Do you dream about the plane crash every night?" I continually ran both hands through her hair and trickled three of my fingers on my opposite hand over her back. She nodded her head against my neck, her hair tickling the layer of my visible skin that my t-shirt didn't cover.

Her sobbing quieted, her tears arid, she fell asleep once again, her breathing slow and at a steady pace. Her arms were resting down by her sides, her hands just above the bottom of my abdomen. My arms kept her on top of me. I had stopped playing with her hair a few minutes ago, and both of my hands found the trail down the middle of her back once again. The scar that ran from the dimples of her back to the spot beneath her shoulder blades. A few digits on my left hand trailed up, a few digits on my right traveling down, taking turns. The only barrier that my fingers went over was the curve of her bra hooks. I raised her shirt just beneath her bra strap, and I could feel the chill bumps rise on her smooth, pigmented skin after each stroke my digits made. I couldn't fall back to sleep, and even if I tried, it was impossible. It was already four in the morning, and I found myself getting drowsy, yet I couldn't fall into a slumber.

So, I studied her face: the small creases that appeared over her forehead. The slight arch that made her brown eyebrows; her long, brown eyelashes that were glued together, covering the irises of her eyes; sprinkled freckles beneath her eyes and above the bridge of her small, button nose. Her full, soft, pink lips that were slightly open due to her breathing. The small cleft in her chin made her look a few years younger. She looked innocent, pure, younger, and beautiful.