Chapter Seventeen

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The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Because he is a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favorite. 
-Brad Falchuk

Around three am I wake up screaming because of a nightmare -I know I did I just don't remember actually waking up. 

I almost broke Cameron's arm and I clawed my own throat enough to leave marks.

Eventually when he has pinned me down to his chest, my arms trapped between us until I calm down enough to snap out of it.

I start bawling, apologizing profoundly for the bruises that littered his skin but he just waves them off and gets up to start the shower for me. 

When I get back to bed I see that I had broken my lamp in the process and the sharp pieces littered the floor and our pillows. Silently we creep out to the living room and set up in there, my favorite cousin across the room from me as a precaution. 

It's one of those nights that I don't feel safe enough to close my eyes again, but so so so tired that eventually I pass out anyway.




A chest moves in sync with my own, making me melt into it as warm arm wrap around me. The comfortable weight of a body on mine reaches me the same time the familiar smell does.

Frowning against Xavier's hair, as I distinctly remember falling asleep away from him. 

His head is buried in my neck, his body curled around mine protectively. The heat he gives off slowly but surely lulls me back to sleep, the gentle growl coming from his chest instantly makes me sleepy. 

Before I know it, or can stop it from happening I'm sleeping once again. 

The next time I wake up it's because I'm cold, I groan, my hand searching around me for a blanket. A chuckle sounds out, I open a eye to peek at Cameron watching me a chair.

"I just woke up too," He admits. "But you look so uncomfortable and cold. Here." He throws me a thick blanket, which due to my still half awake brain, smacks me straight in the head and sends me tumbling side ways off the bed. 

"Ouch!" I screech, looking down to see bruises on both of my wrists.

My worried gaze snaps up to my cousin, catching sight of a black eye and bruises on his arms makes my jaw drop. Covering my mouth with my hands I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling so, so ashamed.

"I am so sorry." I cry, scrambling to my feet so I can throw myself to him in a hug. He catches me with a frown, hugging me back just as fiercely. "Are you still in pain? I d-didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know it was you, I was dreaming. Are you okay? Oh man, now you have to admit you got your ass kicked by a girl, I'm sorry Cam." 

He chuckles again, hands moving along my back in a comforting gesture. "You were going strong until that very last sentence. It doesn't help you were asleep at the time either." I giggle at this, but I'm obviously still worried about him. "Yeah I'm fine, it's you I'm worried about. How's your wrist." He inspects me. "Most of the marks on your neck are gone."

"Oh," I murmur, looking down at the bruises. "That's better than it could have been."

"Definitely." Cameron agrees. "Everyone's in the kitchen already. And by the sounds of it we both need food." 

I smile sheepishly as my stomach attempts to sound like a dying whale. "Yeah. What time is it?" 

"Just past twelve." 

At this my eyes bulge out of their sockets. I'm always awake early, unless I was up really late but I did get to sleep at eleven last night. Then again I was exhausted after my nightmare. 

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