Page 59 of Forever We Fall

Slowly, the hours tick by, and I’m no closer to sleep than I was when I woke this morning. I miss my bed buddy. I miss my friend. I miss my lover, though we weren’t ever that exactly.

A scream splits the night.

I’m up and running before I register where it came from.

My feet tangle in my blankets, trying to trip me.

The scream comes again. It bleeds from Arlo’s room.

I’m through the bathroom and into his room, shocked the door is unlocked. I don’t have time to wonder how long he hasn’t been locking it because he thrashes in the bed.

My gaze scans the room, searching for the threat.

There’s no one except for Arlo’s ghosts.

His eyes are closed. His body jerks. Sweat slicks his forehead, matting his hair to his head. Groans slip through his lips.

My first instinct is to grab his shoulders and jerk him awake. I stop with my hands outstretched. He’s going through something traumatic. Whether it’s happening right now or not, his body feels like it is.

I snatch my hands back and wring them. My teeth worry my lower lip, and I rock on my feet, unsure what to do, but knowing I have to do something.

My gaze snags on the wall above his desk. Each note I’ve slipped under his door is taped to it in neat rows and columns.

“Aishitemasu, Arlo. Watashi wa anata no tame ni koko ni imasu. Itsumo.” I cling to the edge of his bed to keep my hands from smoothing the worry lines between his eyes or wiping the sweat from his brow.

I breathe words of healing over his body as I did before.

I tell him how much I love him. I tell him how I’ll always be here for him. I tell him how angry I am that I let him leave and how I hope he’ll come back to me one day.

Little by little, his shoulders settle from riding high by his ears. His breathing calms. His cries stop. The longer I talk, the more he quiets.

I want to stay here, talking to him all night. Hell, just looking at him brings life to my broken heart. I know I shouldn’t stay. So I won’t, but I’m not quite ready to go.

With a gentle whisper, I tell him one more time how much he means to me.

His eyes blink and then focus on me.

I stop talking immediately and hold my breath. My stomach lurches, terrified that I’ll scare him.

His mouth turns down at the corners. He shudders a breath. “Did I scream?”

I nod.

“Arigato.” He smiles. It is more a grimace than a grin. Yet it lights me up inside.

I nod once more. “Anytime.”

We stare at each other for a moment more, and then I push off his bed and force myself from the room, feeling lighter than I have in weeks.

We’re stuck in this weird holding pattern. Have been for months now. We sit by each other in the great hall, we sit next to each other in classes, we work out together, but we don’t talk about anything important. The most interesting thing we do is work on our new languages together. In the evenings, we stay in our respective rooms, doing what the fuck ever, until the next day when we do all this nothing together all over again.

Unless he has a nightmare.

Only then do I sneak into his room, tell him how much I love him, how much he means to me, and how I’ll always be here for him. Some nights, he wakes and thanks me. Other nights, he simply settles into a peaceful sleep. I don’t know which I like better. When he doesn’t wake, I get to watch him for longer than I should.

One night, I fell asleep in the chair next to his bed. Luckily, I woke before he did and scurried back to my room.

It’s better than nothing. But something has to give.

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