Between

Alek stands, knocking his chair back. “Fuck this! Now I remember why I don’t have anything to do with people.”

 

 

When I died, I must’ve gone to Hell because this is Hell. Suffocating, confusing Hell. I follow Alek upstairs but he strides two steps at a time, and by the time I’ve caught up, he’s slammed his bedroom door. Not in my face, but almost.

 

“Oh, my God!” I yell. “Are you twelve years old?”

 

From inside the room, the sound of banging appears and the door flies open. Alek stands, shirtless, holding a dry T-shirt in his hand. “I was getting changed! You should, too!” He points at my wet clothes.

 

“No, you walked away when I was talking.”

 

“Talking? You were insulting me!”

 

“So, you think your behaviour is acceptable in a relationship.”

 

Alek opens his mouth to respond then shakes his head with a small smile. “Relationship? Does this count as a relationship?”

 

“It’s fucking weird, whatever it is, but we unfortunately have one.”

 

Alek gasps. “Casper! You’re swearing again.”

 

“And you’re trying to steer the conversation away from this again.”

 

As if to block out what I’m saying, he pulls his T-shirt over his head. His damp hair sticks up in several directions when his face reappears. If I wasn’t angry, I’d be taking in the fact he’s downright sexy and does things to my insides that temper my anger.

 

“Rose, I apologise if I’m upsetting you, but this is me. I was like this when I was alive. I didn’t get close to people before, and years of isolation hasn’t helped. I don’t know how to behave the way you expect me to.”

 

I rub my cold arm. “I only expect respect, Alek. And maybe some consistency instead of these wild mood swings.”

 

“It’s who I am.”

 

I drag my fingers through my damp hair. “And I’m stuck with you.”

 

He narrows his eyes. “Leave if you don’t want to be ‘stuck with me’.”

 

Alek knows this isn’t a possibility in my current life, and I can see his anger sweeping back in. “I’m getting changed.”

 

Heart thumping hard in my chest, I head for my room. The size of the space feels more claustrophobic than ever, suffocating me like my life in this house. Like my world. Again the urge to leave comes back, but where would I go? Dragging my damp clothes off and dumping them in a corner, I pull on my yoga pants and a thick jumper. My soaked hair has begun to dry in tendrils around my face, and I twist it into a high ponytail. The top of the house is cold and too close to the point the Shades come through, so I reluctantly return downstairs.

 

Alek sits on the shabby sofa near the gas fire in the lounge, staring straight ahead. I hesitate, unsure whether to go to him.

 

“Lizzie isn’t back,” he says as I pass him.

 

I’m unsure if this is concern or a statement. I don’t want to talk to him. I pick up the bag I dumped by the floor, ready to walk out again.

 

“Rose,” he says softly. “I’m sorry. This scares me.”

 

“I scare you?”

 

“No, this situation with us. I’m somewhere I don’t want to be, and I don’t know how to cope.” His voice is flat, features drawn down into unhappiness.

 

“I don’t like living here either. We’re both stuck and looking to each other for help.”

 

“Is that all?” He turns to me, and the confusion he speaks about reflects in his eyes.

 

Of course it’s not all. I crave to be around this man, touching him, and gaining comfort from the energy we create when we’re together. To have him look at me as if he can fix everything and for me to believe that’s true.

 

“What are you trying to say, Alek?” I cross to the sofa and sit on the edge, far enough away from him to counteract some of the effect but aware of my arms prickling.

 

“I was an addict,” he says.

 

“Before you became Between?” He nods. “Drugs?”

 

“Yeah. I’d been clean and relapsed shortly before. Life was shit, and I went back to the one thing that made my life a brighter place. Which I know is fucked-up, but I tried to be clean and got dragged back in.” He huffs. “When I became what I am now, taking people’s energy became a new drug for me. I’d take when I didn’t need to because of the high. You felt it the time you took too much from me; you know how incredible it felt, and you didn’t want to stop.”

 

“Yes, but I had to.”

 

“Now, I don’t know the difference, Rose. I don’t know if wanting your energy is why I’m obsessed with you or if it’s more. When I’m with you, I’m calmer and happier. Is it our connection? Or is it you? Us?”

 

The time we had sex, after I took too much from him and gave it back, floods my mind. The connection to Alek at that point felt more natural, as if we were meant to be. But is he right? Is this us trapped in the situation?

 

“I want to share myself with you, but I don’t know how,” he says quietly. “And I think if I do and you reject me, the pain will be too much.”

 

His words stun, classic Alek mood swing in action here. “You’re pushing me away, Alek.”

 

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