THE SECRETS- I share with a Vampire

6. Fire without Matchsticks

"Stop glaring at me!" I told Mr. Surly McCarty.

"You ruined my favorite shirt and...and..."

"And?"

"Forget it"

Holy fucking Shit. He said.

He felt it too. Whatever was with the entire electricity and immediate alertness of every cell of my body, he had gone through it too. His face said it, the way he stared at me for a fraction of a second said it, how he did not let go of me until I cleared my throat said it. He was experiencing this crazy transition too.

Maybe it was the freaking weather. It had been raining a lot lately so the thunder must have started communicating with me through telepathy. And since every human body is a conductor of electricity, the current must have passed from me to him and he was clearly stunned by the impact of it.

Yes. That must be it.

How freaking drunk are you, Sasha?

I didn't want to listen to my inner conscious screaming at me that my theory was no where close to sanity or reality. I just find it peaceful to leave things at that. Going any deeper would mean that something weird and unnecessary was brewing up and I have no plans of having everything blasted on my face in the end.

At least... not again.

"You sleep on the couch" Sean ordered arrogantly.

"Why don't you follow your own advice?" I said and started to move towards my warm and cozy looking bed.

He held my hand and turned me to face him, immediately releasing me when he realized I was staring at his hand on mine. Things are getting so uncomfortable minute by minute.

"I am not sleeping on the couch..I never had to in the pala.." He paused and cleared his throat, "I mean in my own house."

I folded my hands to my chest, "What is so wrong in sleeping on a couch? How does that harm anybody?"

He glared at the wall, as if he was trying to break it with mere looks. I can assure you my walls are stronger and can endure his glares even if he kept throwing them without taking a break. They are made of the finest cement and bricks. Well, if he keeps throwing those glares at me then I have to consider punching him in the face so that he will be busy repairing his own instead of glaring at others'. 

"It can damage my spinal cord" He said suddenly.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Sleeping on a couch can damage my spinal cord. It does not allow free movement so my spinal cord can simply freeze because of the coldness and I'll have to walk like a zombie from tomorrow and your neighbors won't like that a zombie and his wife are residing in a flat next to theirs"

If that makes any sense to any of you. It wouldn't have made sense to me either but then I was so drunk, all I wanted was to collapse on something soft and let the sleep take on. Strangely, I was more dizzy after the small hug we shared.

It was not a hug. He was only trying to ruin my shirt too. 

"Instead of fighting, we can find a better alternative to solve this argument" I said.

"Let us draw the border then" He shrugged.

"Border?"

He shoved me aside rather harshly and pounced on my bed. I was only going to protest when I saw what he was doing. He took the comforter and started to roll it. I frowned, trying to comprehend what he was attempting to do. He had no trouble in doing the job so gracefully without breaking a tiny drop of sweat. That comforter is really woolly and heavy, I must say. After he was convinced with his work, he placed the rolled comforter in the center of the bed, dividing it into two compartments.