Page 100 of Even Vampires Bleed
Really, I only have to survive eleven days.
I can do it.
52
Léandre
Ican’t do it.
Five days have passed.
Only five freaking days since I made that deal with Cassiopé.
Yesterday, Angélique visited us and dropped the food.
She stayed the whole afternoon, and I managed to corner her outside so Cassiopé wouldn’t hear.
I asked her about the mattress. At this point, I would be glad even if it was an inflatable mattress—anything other than that damn couch.
Because my back is hurting so fucking much. But I’m hiding it well so far. Cassiopé seems oblivious.
But, damn, this is getting so hard to hide.
It feels like I’ve aged at least fifty years from just a week of sleeping on that hell couch.
I try to get up from the couch and… But I can’t do it.
I’m stuck in a bent position, and my backrefuses to straighten.
Fifty years I said? Scratch that, I aged a hundred years since I slept on that couch.
I think I’d be okay if the length was the only issue. I could sleep in a ball on it and be done with it. But I can feel all the wires inside of it. Some of the springs seem to have broken from their initial position and are poking me every which way anytime I move at night, which means I keep waking up.
My back is sore. My neck is sore. Even my butt is sore.
And now this.
And now I’m stuck midair with my back forty-five degrees from being straight and all I can do is curse under my breath because I can’t do it out loud or Cassiopé will know.
She will know and will force me to uphold the deal we made.
And I might have had a shred of belief in myself when I made that deal. I might have thought I could resist sleeping on my side and avoid touching her in my sleep at that time, but now? With my sleep deprived state? I have no way of knowing what I would do. I’m not even sure I would have any self-control.
And what happens if my hands wander and stray to places they’re not supposed to go?
She’ll hate me, and I’ll hate myself even more.
Especially since we’re stuck here together. I don’t want to make things awkward.
And I know that if we end up in the same bed, it’s only a matter of time before I make things awkward.
Very, very awkward.
I won’t even do it on purpose.
It’s already a nightmare as it is now. One long shower isn’t enough. I can’t stop seeing her when I come. I can’t stop seeing her in my sleep. I can’t stop seeing her even when I’m awake.
I live in a constant semi hard state and I have no clue how to stop my predicament.
