Page 45 of Teach Me to Fly

Angelique’s eyes are vacant and downcast as she slowly walks around the open space, gently bumping into the couch before slowly redirecting herself to avoid it altogether.

“Everything okay, Angel?” I ask, slowly standing from the couch as she nears me.

She doesn’t reply, stopping in front of me and staring directly at my chest. My brows pinch together as I watch her, and we stand like that for a few seconds longer before I drift to the side to test something. As predicted, almost instantly she begins walking again.

“Are you sleepwalking?” I mumble, surprised when she stops and turns back around to face me.

Angelique’s empty eyes shine with unshed tears, and I feel a protective anger flare up inside me as I take long strides in her direction and pull her into my chest. Her arms slowly wrap around my centre, and she gently lays her head against my torso.

Under different circumstances, I might enjoy how right this feels. Having her in my arms. How perfectly she fits, like a missing puzzle piece finally clicking back into place. How she makes me feel whole in a way I don’t quite understand.

But, under these circumstances, I’m more focused on figuring out what’s haunting her mind to the point of crying. When I pull back moments later, her cheeks are streaked with tears, but her expression is still void of any emotion.

“I’m going to have to break your rule again,” I murmur, my voice low so that I don’t startle her awake as I gentlyturn her around and guide her down the hallway, back to her room.

She moves slowly, eyes still half-lidded. When we reach her room, I steer her toward the bed and help her lie back down. The moment her head touches the pillow, her eyes drift fully closed, and her breathing deepens instantly.

I cover her with the duvet before I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her. Long, dark curls spread messily across the pillow, wild and soft, and her face looks so peaceful now in a way I haven’t seen in years.

I allow myself to stay there for a moment, listening to the rhythm of her breath. First night terrors, and now sleepwalking? This isn’t normal. Something’s not right, and I don’t know how to fix it, or if she’d even let me.

My hands tighten into fists on my lap. I want to stay in her room and watch over her as if I can keep her safe from whatever is haunting her, but I leave her room when I’m sure she’s back to deep sleeping, softly closing the door behind me and walking back to the couch, ignoring the television completely now.

I turn on my laptop and do a quick internet search, not at all surprised to find that adult sleepwalking can be because of a trauma response. I feel myself begin to spiral, and before I think better of it, I pull out my phone and text Lando.

Me:

Are you awake?

Surprisingly, I don’t wait long for his reply.

Lando:

Woah, so you do remember how to use your phone. Proud of you, brother!

Me:

Can you meet me outside the gardens?

Lando:

Right now?

Me:

Yes.

Lando:

Is everything alright with Angelique?

Me:

See you in five.

I make it to the bench just outside the gardens in less than three minutes. Lando meets me there shortly after, wearing a long silk robe, and riding boots. I raise my brows, taken aback by his very un-Lando-ish outfit.

“Don’t even think about commenting on my outfit right now, Reign,” he warns, frowning at me as he takes a seat next to me, arms folded across his chest. “What the hell is going on that you had to meet with me right this very second, in the middle of the night?”

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