Out As Always

Out As Always
Lucy’s POV

Every ounce of relief vanished…making way for something more unsettling.

I wanted to say his name…but the words died in my throat.

He stood there in the dim hallway light, but it wasn’t the Ethan I’d fallen asleep beside earlier. This version looked like he’d been dragged through hell and barely crawled back. 

His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and something darker. His shirt…once a simple black tee…was torn at the collar and sleeve, streaked with grime and what looked suspiciously like blood. 

There were crimson smears across his knuckles, a deeper gash along the back of his left hand still oozing sluggishly. His jeans were muddy at the knees, and there was a faint, metallic tang in the air around him, mixing with the faint scent of gunpowder and exhaustion.

“Ethan?” My voice cracked. All thoughts of the nightmare, the dragging sounds, the viscous voice..,everything evaporated in a rush of pure, protective worry. 

I forgot my own terror as I grabbed his arm, pulling him inside with frantic strength. “Oh my God, what happened to you? Come in, sit down.”

He let me guide him to the dressing chair without protest, his movements stiff. I pushed him gently until he sat, then dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands hovering over his injured one. 

The gash looked nasty under the moonlight filtering through the windows…jagged, like it had caught on something sharp during a struggle.

“Talk to me,” I whispered, examining the wound closer. My fingers trembled as I touched the skin around it, careful not to press. “Is that blood? Are you hurt anywhere else? Ethan, please. How can I help you?”

He exhaled slowly, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from my tear-streaked face. “It’s nothing serious, Lucy. We had an operation at the precinct tonight. Tracked down that drug gang that’s been running products through the docks. It got messy…shots fired, a couple guys tried to bolt through the warehouse district. But it’s nothing I’m not used to. I’m fine. Really.”

His eyes, though…those warm brown eyes I’d come to crave…squeezed with worry as he studied me. 

The concern there was deeper than any pain from his injuries. “Why were you screaming like that? I could hear you from the hallway. Did you have another nightmare? Or…did you disobey me and log in again? Did you see anything nasty online? Did anyone drop by?”

Woah…I’m not a kid!

Instead of saying that, I smiled weakly, trying to hold it together. Should I really tell him? About the dragging, the wet breathing, the voice that sounded like him but drowned and rotting?

What if he looked at me like I was broken? Like the girl who was losing her grip on reality? He’d think I was crazy. He’d pull away, find someone stable, someone who didn’t hear monsters at 2 a.m. I couldn’t bear the thought of being alone again…of him leaving me. Not after how he made me feel seen, wanted, safe.

Not after seeing how much of a green flag he is compared to the red flags I’ve met all my life.

He cupped my cheek, thumb stroking gently. “Talk to me, Lucy. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I shook my head, forcing another smile that I hoped looked convincing. “I thought I saw a rat. False alarm. Big one, scurrying in the dark. Scared the hell out of me.”

He exhaled heavily, shoulders slumping in visible relief. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I was so scared something bad had happened to you. I don’t know what I’d do if…” 

He trailed off, pulling me into a careful hug despite the blood on his hands.

Afterwards, I cleaned the wound as best I could with the first-aid kit from the bathroom, wrapping it neatly. He winced once but brushed it off with that easy smile of his. 

Then he stood, kissing my forehead. “I need a shower. Wash this night off me. Be right back,” he whispered and I nodded.

While the water started running, I gathered his ruined clothes from where he’d dropped them. The shirt was heavier than it should’ve been, stiff with dried fluids. I snatched it from the floor, bundling it quickly for the laundry room. But something caught my eye on the fabric…a detail that made my stomach tighten for just a second. 

It can’t be…right?

I shoved the thought away. Probably nothing. Just the stress playing tricks again. I carried the bundle down the short hall to the laundry and tossed it in.

When I returned to the bedroom, the apartment had gone strangely quiet. The shower wasn’t running. No water sounds at all.

“Ethan?” I called softly. No response.

My eyes flicked instinctively to the bedside clock. 2:05 a.m?! Is this a joke?

I wiped my face and looked again, yet the glowing numbers mocked me. I woke up at exactly 2:03 and now, it’s just 2:05?

So you mean all of it…the terror, my prayers, the screaming, the dragging thing at the door, letting him in, cleaning his wounds…had happened in less than two minutes? 

What the fuck? Time didn’t stretch like that… It couldn’t. Or am I going crazy?

My mind spiraled further, thoughts crashing into each other. Was something really wrong with me?
Hallucinations? Blackouts? Should I really get myself checked? 

Ethan had mentioned taking me to a hospital in the morning for some routine tests anyway. Maybe after that, I’d know. Maybe they’d give me a medical explanation for all this, or maybe… maybe there was something else. 

Something darker.

A sudden soft sound behind me made me whip my head around.

I looked and Ethan was right there. Inches from my face. His breath ghosted my skin, eyes locked on mine in the dim light. Too close. Too sudden without any sound that he was next to me.

I screamed and stumbled back. My heel caught on the rug, and I started to fall, but his arms shot out, catching me firmly against his chest. He was shirtless now, skin still damp from the shower, towel low on his hips.

“Whoa, Lucy. I’ve got you. What’s wrong?” His voice was gentle, steady, but that closeness sent my pulse racing again.

“I—I didn’t see you there,” I stammered, heart hammering. “Sorry. Where did you come from again? What time did you leave earlier? And when did you get back? I need to know.”

He laughed awkwardly, a short sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Time? Does it matter? Everything alright with you?”

“Yes,” I lied quickly. “I just… wanted to go over something. The timeline. Please. What time did you leave? And what time did you get back?”

I needed to at least clear that fog out of my head.
But, instead of responding, he smiled, that charming, disarming smile, and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I left, and now I’m here. With you.”

I opened my mouth to press him again…to make him understand that I needed the details, needed to anchor myself, to know if I was losing my mind…but he let the towel drop from his waist with a mischievous grin. “Oops.”

Heat flooded my face seeing him in all his glory, and just like that, the nightmares, the impossible minutes, the questions…they all blurred and faded. 

Who gives a fuck about time when I have Ethan all the time?

And like every other night, he pulled me under. His hands, his mouth, that relentless hunger that left bruises and gasps and shattered thoughts. 

He ruined me slowly, thoroughly, until my voice was gone again, my body limp and trembling, every muscle spent. 

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe properly and couldn’t think clearly. Before long, exhaustion claimed me completely, and I was out.