Sleeping With The Dark

Chapter 2 - In The Dark Of The Night

Jack groaned, rolling over and opening his eyes slightly to look out the window.
Still dark...
He sighed and rubbed his face, sitting up with a yawn and a stretch as he slid his legs off the bed and stood up. Locating his phone, he pressed the home button and checked the time, seeing that it was just past 1am.
"Suh much fer fixin' mah schedule..." He mumbled, turning and leaving his room to plod downstairs, into the kitchen.
His stomach growled while he took a bowl from the cupboard and set it on the side, making sure he was quiet before realising that there was no one but him in the house. With a shake of his head and a sigh he turned to the fridge, his ankles cracking slightly as he walked, sending a shiver through him.
He opened the refrigerator door and squinted at the bright light, blindly grabbing the carton of milk on the shelf and quickly closing it before he reached up and pulled down a box of cereal. Finally, he turned and went back to the lonely bowl on the side.
While he stood and poured cereal into his bowl, he heard his ankles crack again...probably because it was such a cold night. He looked down to his feet and wriggled his toes with a tired smile, then paused and furrowed his brows with a frown.
He was...stood still. And, he didn't feel a click.
Quietly, Jack slid the carton of milk back onto the side and crept towards the living room door, peeking around the corner once he got to the frame. There didn't seem to be anyone in there.
Jack rounded the corner and stepped into the living room. Taking another look around, his eyes landed on a picture frame that was hanging on the wall, glinting in the moon's light. He couldn't see the photo from where he was stood, so he walked over to see what it was. Upon seeing it, he frowned, Him and his ex...he thought he'd have remembered to take it down, but, it seemed to slip his mind. Either that, or he didn't care enough to take it down.
He flinched when his fingers touched the cold frame, the sudden temperature change making him realise that he'd reached out for it in the first place. Then, he sighed and lifted it off the nail in the wall, deciding to lay it face-down on the cabinet in front of him until morning, when he'd probably take it out of the frame and transfer it to the photo box before looking for a photo to replace it.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out another sigh, lifting his hand from the frame and walking back to the kitchen.
His ex leaving didn't bother him at the time. But, it had hit him a few times since that he was alone in the house, and something about that upset him.
Trying not to think about it, he went back to his cereal, picking up the milk and adding it to the bowl. Rubbing his face, he returned the milk to the fridge and the cereal to the shelf on top, then grabbed a spoon and his bowl and left the kitchen to go back upstairs, deciding that he'd just take the bowl down to wash it in the morning.

He flexed his fingers before pushing them together and cracking his knuckles while he looked at the picture on the wall. It was a photograph of Jack and a woman...his friend, maybe? He wasn't sure.
With a shrug, he turned around and walked over to the downstairs bathroom, pushing gently on the door before walking in. He didn't bother flicking the switch to turn the light on, as he could see easily enough without it.
It was pretty empty, and rather small. A shower-bath on the wall to his left, toilet to the right, sink and mirror in the centre of the wall before him.
After a small pause in the doorway, he walked towards the sink and knelt down to open the cupboard. Again, nothing much. Deodorant, spare toothbrush and toothpaste, some shower gels, and soap littered the top shelf, while the bottom shelf held an assortment of folded towels. General, bathroom things that had no real order and weren't all that interesting.
Aside from one thing.
Everything in the cupboard was fine. Things one would expect to be in a typical man's bathroom cupboard. So, when his eyes landed on a small, floral bag, he couldn't help but think that it looked out of place.
Picking it up, he stood and opened the bag. Inside, he saw a small assortment of little bottles and containers and brushes. He frowned and set the bag down next to the sink, picking up a small, capped bottle and opening it.
Lipstick?
He looked down to the rest of the objects in the bag. In his mind, he drew lines from each item and labelled them.
Eyeliner, eyeshadow, blusher, foundation, brushes, wipes, lipstick, nail polish.
He breathed a small chuckle and replaced the cap of the lipstick, zipping up the bag and returning it to the cupboard before closing it.
Must belong to the girl.
He looked around the room again, walking over to the hamper in the corner and lazily lifting the lid to glance at the clothes inside, then letting the lid fall back down with a very soft bump.
With a shrug, he turned on his heel and headed back to the living room. He ran his knuckles over the bathroom's wooden door as he left it. Stopping by the arm of the couch, he looked around the room once more, his eyes landing on the picture on the cabinet.
Was that there just now?
He frowned, walking over to it and picking it up, turning it over to look at the picture.
Him and that girl again?
He furrowed his brows, scanning the picture for a few seconds before looking back up to the other picture, only to realise that it was the one in his hands.
With a small smirk, he ran his thumb over the frame of the picture, then placed it back on the nail on the wall.

This time around, it was Jack's alarm that woke him up.
He groaned, rolling onto his side and slapping his hand on his bedside clock in an attempt to shut it up. When the beeping didn't stop, he growled and hit it, successfully silencing it.
It only took a few seconds for him to groggily run his hand through his hair and over his face and then get out of bed, but his tired state made it seem like it was taking hours. His toes curled into the carpet before he started to walk to the bathroom down the hall, lazily pushing the door open and tapping it closed with his foot, not caring when he didn't hear the click of it settling into it's frame.
His morning routine started. Have a shower, go back to his room to get changed and pick up his phone, go downstairs, make an attempt at taming his hair, go to the kitchen, click on the coffee machine, wait while scrolling through twitter.
Paying little attention to the words on his phone screen, he let his mind wander. He hadn't slept all too well once he went back upstairs last night, tossing and turning until early hours before finally finding some sort of comfortable position and falling asleep. He had no idea why. His bed wasn't uncomfortable. He'd never had problems with it, before. He'd left his phone on the bedside table, so technology wasn't keeping him awake. He wasn't even thinking, he was just...uncomfy.
Whatever.
He'd managed to get to sleep, that was what was important.
He put his phone on the side and made himself breakfast, setting it down on the table while he poured his coffee, and eating without too much running through his head, aside from the small, nagging reminder that he'd left his other bowl upstairs. He'd have to get it later.
When he was done, he washed up and walked into the living room with the remainder of his coffee, sitting on the couch and flicking the TV on. It was slightly too early and he was a tad to tired to run errands right now, so, watching an episode or two of something couldn't hurt. Maybe he could catch the beginning to a movie.
Channels flashed past as he pressed buttons, occasionally taking a small sip of his coffee.
Finding nothing, he switched the TV off with an annoyed grunt and lay his head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling.
Guess errands are all I can do right now.
He sighed and got up, leaning down to pick up his cup and turning to walk around the couch when he paused, his eyes landing on the cabinet.
He searched his mind, knowing there was something about that cabinet that was...important? No...just...there. There was meant to be something, wasn't there?
His eyebrows knotted together and he lifted his eyes to the wall.
That picture...did I not take that down last night?
He set down his coffee mug and walked over to the framed photo, feeling the familiar cold rush through his fingertips as he plucked it off the wall. He was sure he took this down last night...he wanted to change the picture, he just knew it.
He didn't have time to contemplate it, however, as a knock at the door made him jump.