Consumed » Kai Parker

Fifty One

Thunderous claps crash through my eardrums, startling me awake.

The sky outside Kai's spacious bedroom is darkened by gray clouds, occasional bolts of lightening illuminating the entire room in spades before we're plunged back into dimness.

The view only brings further dread, considering it's the beginning of another day in which I have to return to the exhausting routine of classes and Kai has to travel to Portland. Throw in the fact that it's Valentine's Day, meaning couples would be surrounding me all day with the stinging reminder that I wouldn't get to see my own boyfriend until later tonight, and I'm not exactly feeling too inclined to face the day.

Sighing quietly, I try to place the nagging thoughts into the ever-growing pile of things to worry about at a much later time and glance at the time on the digital clock. It's only seven thirty, giving me two and a half hours until I have to be at Whitmore.

Rolling over slowly with Kai's arm slightly sliding off my waist in the process, I smile at the mind-easing sight of the witch still seemingly stuck in a slumber. But the smile is abruptly wiped from my face when I discover the distress etched into his scrunched features.

His eyes are screwed tightly shut, with a force that wrinkles his forehead. The sharp muscle of his jaw is clenched, the bone protruding against the skin of his cheek so prominently that I fear it's painful. Sweat glistens on the surface of his tan skin, like it's an extremely physically taxing effort to fight off whatever torture he's found himself face to face with; even worse, it's a battle he may be losing.

"Kai," I whisper with heightening concern, hurriedly throwing the covers down to the end of the mattress.

Scrambling up to sit on my knees beside his heaving torso, I take hold of his bare shoulders and shake gently. Low, gritting noises tumble through his vocal cords, sending a flurry of nerves off in my stomach.

"Kai," I say louder. His eyes abruptly shoot open, flitting over the room wildly like he's surveying an environment that's entirely foreign, and a hand flashes up in a lightening quick movement to grip one of my wrists.

Gasping slightly in surprise, I wait for him to meet my gaze, not daring to move an inch in case I startle him further. Piercing blue eyes finally land on my face, recognition soon washing over his momentarily delirious expression, and he exhales slowly.

"Charlie," Kai lets out gravelly, his breathing adapting a steady pace once more. Realizing he's still holding my wrist, he loosens his fingers gently and murmurs an apology. I move my hands off his shoulders, placing them in my lap instead, and study him with a worry that I try not to let reflect in my expression too much.

"Bad dream?" I question, the undercurrent of urgency behind my curiosity peeking through.

He throws an arm over his face tiredly, leaving only the lower half of his features visible. "Something like that."

"Tell me about it," I insist.

"I can only really remember pieces. It's all already fading away."

"Well, tell me what you remember, then."

His mouth curves into a crooked smile. "I don't really like to waste my time dissecting meaningless images my brain conjured up while I was unconscious. There's enough we have to worry about without adding dreams to the list, don't you agree?"

I frown. "You don't have to brush everything off like it's nothing, Kai."

"And you should start realizing that some things just are nothing. Not every little event needs to be picked apart by your overworked brain."