The sheets were damp and sticky against my skin. I felt the barely-there touch of my lover. His usually white-hot body felt ice-cold. I grumbled as I sat up in bed, rubbing at my eyes. I tried to recall last night’s events with no such luck. My head throbbed and my muscles ached.
I turned on the lamp and my heart sank. The sheets were soiled with blood – thick and crimson. Nick was still, his chest barely rising or falling. I turned his body towards me and gasped. His eyes were shut, lips tinted blue. There were scratches and gashes over his chest and abdomen and there was a gnarly bite at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Oh no. I listened closely; he was barely breathing. I gently shook him and called his name. His eyes opened weakly; he caught my gaze. The musky scent of fear quickly filled the room; it was almost too much.
“You…you did this to me…” His eyes turned glossy and his cheeks became tear-soaked. Then, as his eyes closed, his breathing halted.
No! No, Nick! No! I cupped his face with both my hands; he was so cold. I ducked my head down, pressing my forehead to his. I couldn’t stop the tears that began flowing. I slammed my eyes shut and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes I was laying back down, a warm body nestled against my side. I sighed. It was just another nightmare. Nick wiggled around a bit, trying to get closer. I lifted the sheet – which was blood free – and looked over his body. He was unmarred, save for a love marks. I pressed a kiss to his temple and lay back down.
“’Ro, what’re you doing? It’s…three in the morning.” He nuzzled my jaw.
“N-nothing.” I laid there, staring at the ceiling. “Just, uh, can’t sleep.”