Chapter 8
“No... it’s not me... believe me… never!”
Cressida’s eyes snapped open, her mind jolted by the desperate words echoing in the room. The darkness of the room seemed to amplify the raw emotion behind those words. She fumbled for the lamp and turned it on.
Her gaze landed on Alaric, lying beside her, his face twisted in a mixture of anguish and determination. His head shook violently, eyes clamped shut, as he gripped the duvet intensely.
Cressida’s shock was palpable. She watched, frozen, as Alaric’s turmoil continued, his breathing ragged and labored. She reached out, hesitated, and then drew her hand back, unsure whether to intrude upon his private struggle.
“Alaric…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, laced with concern and confusion.
“Mom! Dad! Please, save me!”
Cressida’s concern deepened as Alaric’s cries grew more desperate. His words cut through the room, revealing a deep-seated fear. She watched, helpless, as his forehead beaded with cold sweat.
“Alaric…” she whispered, her voice gentle yet urgent. She knelt beside him, her hand lightly touching his shoulder. “Alaric, wake up,” she urged, her tone soft to avoid disturbing others.
She cradled his head, lifting it from the bed. “Alaric!” She finally raised her voice.
Alaric’s eyes snapped open, and he lunged into a sitting position, wrapping his arms tightly around Cressida, panting heavily. “Please, save me…” he said, his low voice seeking, showing distress.
“Hun!” Cressida exclaimed, surprised, her arms frozen in uncertainty.
She gently wrapped her left arm around his neck, drawing his head to her chest. With her right hand, she soothingly patted his back. “Everything is fine,” she whispered calmly. “You’re safe now, Alaric.”
Her words seemed to weave a calming spell, and Alaric’s racing heart gradually slowed. The warmth of her body and the gentle rhythm of her voice comforted him, easing his fear.
As he relaxed into her embrace, she held him close, offering a sense of security and protection.
Cressida’s soothing voice wrapped around Alaric like a gentle blanket. “Calm down, you’re safe now,” she murmured, her words a steady reassurance. Her gentle pats on his back seemed to synchronize with his slowing heartbeat.
“Breathe in, breathe out,” she guided, and Alaric’s chest rose and fell in obedience. “How’s it now?” She asked softly, and his nod was almost imperceptible.
As his calm deepened, her pats gave way to gentle rubs. “What happened?” She asked, her tone coaxing. When he remained silent, she rephrased, “Did you have a nightmare? Was it scary?”
Alaric’s eyes drooped. “Shit…” he muttered, pulling away from her shoulder. “Can’t you just be helpful until the end?” His words held a hint of frustration, and he dodged her outstretched hand.
“I-” Cressida wanted to say something, but he cut her off with a lie.
“Nothing happened to me. I didn’t have a scary nightmare.” His tone was dismissive, avoiding her gaze.
“Oh,” Cressida uttered, her voice tinged with understanding. She tried to close the distance, but he edged away, maintaining the space between them.
“Is this because of the darkness?” She interrogated, her voice laced with worry.
“Because I was afraid you’d suffer the same fate as me!” Alaric’s response was explosive, his pain and fear boiling over. “I did not want to torment you!”
Cressida’s face furrowed in concern. “What do you mean? Fate? Torment? What are you talking about?” The question hung in the air, but Alaric was reluctant to elaborate.
Instead, he made a sudden announcement. “I’ll be sleeping on the couch from now on.”
“But… why?” She asked.
“Because this results from us sharing the same bed... Didn't we agree to respect each other's privacy?” He revealed, his response tinged with frustration, aiming at annoying her.
“No,” she objected firmly, before he could grab his pillow. “You’re taller than I, so you won’t be comfortable sleeping on the couch.” She reasoned, picking up a pillow.
“I’ll manage.” Alaric's response was instinctive, but Cressida was resolute.
She paced to the couch and sat, her eyes locked on his. “You don’t have to,” she said softly. “You think I don’t know what you have in mind?”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she teased, “You don’t want to share the bed because you’re afraid you might just fall head over heels.” Her words dripped with sarcasm, aimed at getting under his skin.
Alaric smirked, his eyebrows arching in amusement. “Fall for you?” He repeated the phrase, his tone laced with incredulity. He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Impossible. Never. If anyone should be worried about losing their heart, it’s you.”
Cressida’s hand flew to her chest, her expression feigning innocence. “Me?” She echoed, her voice rising in mock surprise.
Alaric nodded, his eyes glinting with conviction. “Yes,” he declared, thumping his chest with his fist. “My heart is impenetrable–a fortress of stone, guarded by walls of revenge. Love can’t breach it.”
“Maybe you need a stick to pound some sense into that chest of yours,” Cressida’s response was swift and witty, her words taunting him. “With an iron heart like yours, maybe hitting it with your hand isn’t enough,”
She chuckled, the sound playful. “Iron Man, indeed.”
Alaric’s expression soured, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “You’re really annoying,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, barely containing his irritation. “And your attitude is disgusting.”
Cressida’s gaze narrowed, her eyebrows dipping low. “Stop it, Alaric,” she warned, her head shaking slowly. “How often do you plan on repeating this routine?”
Her tone turned stern, a hint of exasperation creeping in. “Stop being petty.”
“I am not being petty…”
His protest fell flat as Cressida ignored him, snuggling into the couch with the duvet. “Whatever.” She uttered, her word a dismissive brush-off.
Alaric’s frustration simmered, his eyes fixed on her before he looked away, banging his fist on the bed. “I’m counting down the minutes until this is over.” He muttered.
“Same here.” Cressida responded in a low voice.
Alaric’s irritation spiked, and he snapped, “Can’t you just keep quiet?”
Cressida’s smile was mischievous as she turned to face him. “I can, but I won’t,” she said, winking. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it soon enough.”
Alaric’s jaw clenched, and he chose to retreat into silence, covering himself from head to toe as he aggressively lay on the bed. “Shit!”
Cressida’s eyes fluttered open. “Morning already?” She muttered.
“Yes, it is. Guess all the fun yesterday wore you out. You’re sleeping in late.” Alaric teased.
Cressida’s head jerked up, and she took in Alaric sitting in his wheelchair beside the bed. “You’re awake?” She asked.
Alaric’s smirk was quick. “No, I’m not awake yet.” He snapped.
Cressida’s gaze lingered on him, her expression turning pitying.
Alaric furrowed his face, confused about why she was staring at him. He scanned himself for any issues, but found none. “What’s wrong?” He questioned. “Is there something on me?”
Cressida stood up to head to the bathroom, her soft sigh trailed off into a pointed remark, “it’s infuriating when people aren’t what they claim to be,” Her gaze drifted back to Alaric, her eyes locking onto his with a piercing intensity. “You’ve got some serious self-reflection to do.”
“What does that mean?” Alaric demanded, his annoyance clear. Her previous cryptic remark still lingered, and her refusal to explain only fueled his frustration. “Tell me what that means, or–”
Cressida’s fiery gaze cut him off. She spun around, her eyes blazing with intensity. “Or what?” She challenged, her voice low and menacing.
Alaric’s eyes widened, taken aback by her sudden ferocity. The intensity of her gaze left him speechless, his words dying on his lips. The air charged with tension, and for a moment, it seemed like the room held its breath.
Cressida took a deep breath, her eyes half-closing as she struggled to rein in her emotions. When she spoke, her voice was measured, each word deliberate. “It’s painful to realize too late that you’re not as capable as I thought. Now, I wonder if we can even succeed with this going on,”
Her gaze locked onto Alaric’s, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. “All I can do is hope you’ll step up. Stop being petty and focus on what’s necessary.”
“What’s necessary?”