The Black Parade

A tiny smile found my lips. “Obviously you’re doing it wrong.”

 

 

Feeling admittedly better, I pushed away from him and sank back onto the bed, tugging out the loose knot I’d tied my hair up into so I could run my fingers through it. Nervous habit.

 

Michael sat next to me, but didn’t touch me this time. I appreciated it.

 

“What did you see?”

 

I couldn’t help but wince. “Belial.”

 

“It’s not the first time, is it?”

 

I shook my head. “Ever since the fight at the psychiatric hospital, I’ve had nightmares about him. Still, this one was much more…vivid.”

 

A cold shudder rolled up my spine as I thought about him kissing me, how he had manipulated me into thinking he was someone else. Bastard.

 

Michael let out a long breath, leaning his arms on his long legs. “I know it sounds corny but…you know I’d never let him hurt you again.”

 

I nodded, fingers combing through my hair until it was untangled enough to fit back in a ponytail. “I know.”

 

“Is there anything you want me to do?”

 

A thought popped into mind—something I’d forgotten about for a while—that time he and I had fallen asleep in bed together and I didn’t have nightmares that night. Somehow, his close proximity seemed to cancel my bad dreams. Why, though? Maybe I’d ask Gabriel about it.

 

“No,” I said out loud. “I’ll be alright.”

 

A tiny voice in my head whispered that I was an idiot, but I told it to go die in a fire. Our relationship had crossed so many lines at this point, and there would be no reason to keep at it. He was an archangel, for Christ’s sake, not a teddy bear.

 

I climbed into bed and flopped down on the pillow face up. Michael took the hint and went back to his own, hesitating before getting in.

 

“Good night, Jordan.”

 

I sighed. “Let’s hope so.”

 

I expected to wake up in a cold sweat, buried underneath the fluffy white comforter, but something was different. There wasn’t a damp imprint of my body on the mattress. Quite the opposite, actually. I felt warm. Inexplicably so.

 

There was a firm weight down my back and along my waist that seemed to keep the cold of the hotel room at bay. Even with my mind barely conscious, blind pleasure filled me. I felt…safe. Not really a familiar sensation with my lifestyle.

 

A contented sigh slipped past my lips. I snuggled deeper into my comfortable spot, reaching over my waist to pull the covers in tighter so I could make myself a cocoon. I touched something smooth. Not the blanket. Firmer. Confused and still mostly asleep, I tried to stretch but my heels brushed against a pair of rather large bare feet. A muscular chest met my spine, melting into it perfectly. Definitely male.

 

Wait, what?

 

My eyes flew open. I sat up in my bed to find Michael lying asleep next to me with one large arm draped across my hips.

 

I scrambled backwards in a flustered panic, remembering it was only a Queen-sized bed seconds too late. I tumbled off the edge and hit the floor, which knocked the wind out of me. However, the enormous thud woke up the intruding archangel.

 

“Jor?” he croaked in his ultra-deep morning voice, peeking over the edge of the mattress.

 

I stood up in a flash and shrieked, “What the hell are you doing?”

 

He frowned. “Making sure you didn’t crack your skull?”

 

I ground my back teeth. “Not that, jackass. Why are you in bed with me?”

 

Michael raked the hair out of his face so he could see me better. “Oh. Jordan, you were tossing and turning the entire night. I couldn’t keep waking you up or you’d never get any rest—”

 

“—so you just thought there’s no harm in crawling in bed with me? Have you lost your mind?”

 

He continued looking confused. “We’ve shared a bed before. What’s the big deal?”

 

“What’s the big deal? You had my permission when that happened.”

 

“I was just trying to help.”

 

I pressed my fingertips against my temple. A headache was forthcoming. The hot blood rushing through me felt liable to pop out of my neck at any second. “I’m not a child. I can handle a few bad dreams by myself.”

 

Finally, he got irritated. “So what? We’re just going to pretend like you weren’t about to start drinking last night because the nightmare freaked you out so badly?”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

He shook his head. “Denial isn’t going to help you get better. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and invaded your privacy, but I didn’t know what else to do. You were in pain.”

 

“Fine. Let me enlighten you. Life is pain. I’ll get over it.”

 

He glared at me. “So if the same thing were happening to me and I told you to just back off and forget about it, what would you say?”

 

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