Page 10 of Presence

I stand up, smoothing out my clothes, aware of how close he is. It has my blood pumping in the best of ways. We walk up to the counter together, and I place our order. Echo stands right beside me, watching.

He seems to like watching me.

As the barista prepares our drinks, I turn to him.

“So, where to next?” I ask, my curiosity piqued. I’m itching to see where this all goes. God knows I’ve already wasted enough of my life. This might be exactly what I need.

He looks down at me, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. “I was thinking of a walk. It’s a beautiful night, and there’s a park nearby that’s perfect for evening strolls,” he suggests. The way he licks his teeth sends a shiver down my spine, but I bite my lip and smile.

“Sounds perfect,” I reply, feeling a tingle at my fingertips.

We collect our coffees and step outside. The night air is crisp and a bit chilly, with moonlight peeking from behind dark clouds. The streets are quiet, bathed in an eerie aura. No people, no cars. It feels late, but how come...?

“Um, what time is it?” I ask, glancing at my coffee and frowning. An insomniac like me shouldn’t drink coffee at night. It feels like clipping my own wings.

Echo looks at me, a strange expression flickering across his handsome face before it turns sultry. “High time for some answers maybe?” he suggests. “Since you don’t seem to remember me and all?”

I nod, anxiety knotting in my stomach. The whole situation feels surreal. On one hand, I can’t quite grasp it. On the other, I don’t want to. I feel good, better than I have in months. There’s a handsome guy interested in me.

But I still had to ask for answers... It’s so like me to ruin moments like this. Why can’t I just ignore that nagging feeling in my gut and just enjoy the moment, even if I don’t totally understand it? Not everything has to be logical and clear. Sometimes it’s okay to let go and not be suspicious. Maybe the unexplainable things are happening for a reason.

“Answers...” I muse out loud, glancing at Echo. In the moonlight, his skin looks alabaster, with a faint blue hue. His inky black hair also sheens blue, making him look even more handsome.

“Hm?” he murmurs, looking up at me with a smile that reveals his dimples. “Isn’t that what you were after? To get the whole story?”

There’s a teasing tone in his voice; he probably still thinks I’m joking around. Little does he know that I’m actually dealing with insomnia and sporadic amnesia on the regular.

I take a sip of my coffee. He does too. Nighttime be damned.

“Oh, I’m sure part of me is exactly after that,” I say sincerely, leaving the rest of my message hanging in the air. I hope he understands that I enjoy being with him right here and now, and that I don’t want to complicate my already complicated life any further.

Does that make sense? I don’t know. My thoughts are a mess.

“Should I satisfy it?” he asks, leaning in close. At first, I’m not sure what he’s doing, but then he reaches for a strand of hair that’s escaped my ponytail and takes a sniff.

He’s smelling me... He did say that I smell good naturally, didn’t he? And he likes the smell of coffee, too.

His closeness is electrifying, and the air between us crackles with a tension I can’t quite define. It’s both exhilarating and a little bit… unsettling.

“I, uh… I don’t know,” I whisper, entranced by the way his fingers weave through my hair. We slow our pace until we stop entirely. The crisp air feels sweeter with him in it. I’ve been on dates before the sickness crept into my life, but none of them felt like this. None of them made me want to abandon all thought and just let go.

Echo licks his lips and glances at mine. For a moment, pure desire flashes across his face—a desire so intense it could incinerate worlds. It’s more than hot. It’s molten lava. But just as I think I might be set ablaze, it vanishes.

“Too bad I have to tell you anyway,” he murmurs. “It’d all be pointless otherwise.”

My eyebrows knit together, and a knot forms in my stomach. I want to step back, but suddenly, Echo’s hand is on my lower back, holding me in place.

The cup falls to the ground between us. Coffee spills across the concrete.

“What…” I begin, but the words trail off.

“This?” he says, his gaze piercing right through me. “This isn’t real. You’re dreaming, Claire. I’m here to protect you.”

His words make my mind spin. Dreaming? Protect me? It makes no sense, yet deep down, a part of me knows he’s telling the truth. It feels like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on me. I don’t feel good anymore.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, pushing him away and stepping back. Anger coils within me. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s feeling powerless. And Echo just made me feel exactly that. Just a couple of words, just one pesky meaning behind them, and the haziness returns. My head feels light. Too light. The ball of emotion I was before? It falls from the sky and crashes to the ground, spilling everywhere just like coffee.

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Instead, an awful sound emanates from around us, chilling my bones. Low, yet shrieking. Singular, yet spoken by many voices.

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