Not that I didn’t care for him that much, but I wasn’t even capable of feeling the way he did. I cared about him as much as I could, as much as my measly human emotions would allow.
Maybe he’d felt the way I still cared for Peter. Despite everything that should be to the contrary, I had very strong feelings for Peter, and something at the very core of me felt destined to be with him. That came directly from my blood, and maybe Jack tasted that.
Without even knowing it, I may very well have broken his heart and driven him away.
I couldn’t live in that kind of panic, so I pulled out my phone. I didn’t think I could talk directly to Jack, not yet, so I texted Milo instead.
Hey. How’s it going? I messaged Milo.
As time started to slowly tick by, it seemed more and more likely that either Milo was sleeping or he hated me. Finally, after seven o’clock, my phone started to ring, and my heart almost pounded out of my chest.
Pretty good. How are you feeling today? Milo texted.
Good. Better. What’s going on tonight? I responded.
We’re just working on some things here. You should probably just stay home and get some rest. Milo messaged.
I’m feeling better. I’d like to get out. This was, of course, only half the truth, but I wanted to see Jack.
Not tonight. Just get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Milo messaged back, and that was that.
They were shutting me out of their lives. If neither Jack nor Peter wanted me around anymore, it made little sense for me to be around. Milo could still talk to me. Just not at their house.
Peter could just move back home, and they could go on with their lives. Everything could go back to some semblance of normal if they just got rid of me.
I took more vitamins, drank another Red Bull, and paced the apartment.
In retrospect, all that caffeine would seem like a really bad idea. I was tired and weak, and instead of perking me up, it made me fidgety. When I finally decided to try to go to bed, sleep escaped me. Even though I was still suffering anemia induced exhaustion, my nerves and the caffeine made it impossible to sleep.
A cool mist seeped into my room through the open window, so at least I wouldn’t have to sleep in muggy ninety degree temperatures. I actually had cool comfort going for me, but I tossed and turned until the covers fell off, and then I was cold.
If only Jack would call me, then somehow we could straighten this all out. I could confess how much I really did care about him, and how little Peter meant to me.
Eventually, my body forced itself to shut down and go to sleep, and I was staring at the phone when my eyes finally closed. The last coherent thought I had before drifting off was that I really and truly loved Jack.
I heard a noise, a banging sound on my window, and my eyes flashed open. The scare from the bang drove away my fatigue, and I sat up, looking around for the source of sound.
Fog had permeated my room, sliding in from the open window. A curtain fluttered in a light breeze, letting in the light from the streetlamp, and it cast onto a figure standing in the corner of my room.
My breath caught in my throat, which was probably only a little better than screaming. I was about to ask who it was, but even in the dim fog of my room, I could see his piercing green eyes fixed on me. He knew that I had seen him, so he stepped out from the shadows.
- 24 -
He was still the most stunning thing I had ever seen. My heart fluttered, and that familiar painful tug pulled inside of me, almost demanding that I get out of bed and go to him. If I hadn’t been in shock, I might have. Instead, I just gaped at him.
“Peter,” I whispered breathlessly.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Peter said softly, and his voice sounded like velvet.
He moved closer to me, cautiously sitting on the edge of my bed. His thick, chestnut hair fell into his eyes, and he absently pushed it back. His skin was smooth and flawless, and his lips parted slightly, breathing me in.
He wanted to reach out and touch me, but fought it, gripping my blanket and balling his hand up into a fist. There should’ve been something menacing and frightening about him being in my room, but there wasn’t.
“What are you doing here?” I swallowed hard, gauging his reaction, but it was impossible. As always, his expression was impenetrable.
“I wanted to see you. I thought something was wrong.” His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t read, and I dropped my gaze. My mind was filled with the exotic haze of him, and I wouldn’t be able to think at all if I kept looking at him.
“Something wrong? You mean like when you nearly killed me?” I was startled that I’d even been able to say something that biting, but he clouded up whatever part of my senses controlled my inhibitions.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him flinch, and that delighted me somehow. He felt remorse about what he’d done to me, as if that were evidence that he actually cared.