Incubus, Episode One

March 26th, 11:22 PM

Kyle is nearly asleep when her window rattling in the frame pulls her away from slumber. She groans and rolls back over, pulling her pillow over her head and cursing the old house. She’s been begging her dad since they moved in to fix the old windows and storm shutters, but nothing’s been done yet. Good thing no hurricanes have battered the house. Her head spins as she starts to drift again.

Bang!

Kyle bolts upright and jumps from the bed, clutching her comforter to her chest. The old magnolia outside her window has hit the glass before, but always with soft scratching. She squints into the darkness. The bang sounds again, and she rushes to open the window.

“Colter! What are you doing here?”

He hiccups and sways dangerously on the tree limb he’s perched on. He reeks of alcohol, and Kyle wonders how long it will be before he falls out of the tree.

“You have to go home,” she says. “We have school tomorrow.”

“Is too empty,” he slurs. “Lemme stay here.”

“No! I told you—”

Colter lurches toward her, and she bites back a scream. “We don’t have to do anything. I jus’ wanna sleep. Scouts honor.” He holds up his hand and pitches backward. This time the scream does escape her throat, and Kyle dives for him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back steady. Hot, sticky liquid coats her fingers.

“You’re bleeding!”

“Is nothin’. Jus’ scratched it climbin’ up.”

With a frustrated sigh, Kyle helps Colter through the window and into her bedroom. He is unsteady on his feet and leans against her heavily. His uninjured hand snakes around her back and holds her close. Kyle basks in the embrace for a moment then pushes him back to sit on the bed. “Sleeping only, and you can’t just crash here whenever you want,” she says. “I’ll go get something to clean your hand up with.”

“Thanks.” He drops his gaze from her face to the floor.

Kyle pads down the hall to the bathroom, avoiding the squeaky spots in the floor even though her dad is still out. Once her eyes adjust to the harsh light, she sits on the toilet seat and drops her head in her hands. She can’t have him in her room, not if they can’t control themselves. She has no idea what happened when they kissed, what she did or if she can control it. All she knows is she is a danger to Colter.

She wets a washcloth and searches the vanity drawers for bandages and Neosporin then makes her way back to her bedroom. When she gets there, Colter is lying on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, snoring softly. Kyle flips the hallway light so she won’t have to shine the bedroom light on him. Kneeling at the bed, she takes his hand in hers and gingerly cleans the cuts on his palm.

Holding his hand lightly in her own, Kyle can feel Colter’s pulse thumping throughout her entire body. All the emotions—anger, grief, pain, desire—that have been surrounding him since they first connected two nights ago are gone. Instead, he is peaceful, and Kyle can’t help but be peaceful as well. She finishes bandaging his wound and pulls a blanket over him.

She stands and watches him sleep, his breath deep and even. Pulling the comforter tighter around her, she climbs over him to the far side of the bed. She curls onto her side and inches as close to the wall as she can, creating a gulf between their bodies. Goose bumps erupt over her skin, and she fights the urge to roll over and snuggle up against him. Instead, she times her breathing with his, slowing down until her body melts into the bed and she drifts off to sleep.

***

She’s in the clearing again, but this time there’s nobody on the other end. The trees are all shades of gray, and the grass is charred black. A lone Mourning Dove sings its melancholy song. Kyle spins in a slow circle, searching for anyone else, but there’s nobody there. She takes a step, walks toward the center of the circle, and for once, she actually moves.