67. I Want to Sleep

“There is something seriously wrong with you, right?” I ask Dakota, meeting his gaze.
Green eyes sharpen, almost punishingly, but I do not back down. *Not now.*
I bite my lip, feeling the rapid thuds in my heart as I meet his intense gaze with a silent plea. “Tell me what you are going through?”
I see a raw opening, a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes, but then he quickly masks it. As if he is on the verge of revealing his dark secrets, yet something invisible and powerful holds him back.
“What is so dangerous that you can’t even speak?” My voice a soft whisper of concern, while he responses with a deep, penetrating gaze, filled with layers of complex emotions.
I rest my hand gently on his torso and feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
“Talk to me.” My voice almost pleading.
My heart races, hard and fast, matching the rhythm of his own beats as I lean in closer and urge him softly, “Please.”
His gaze intensifies and I hear his jaw clench with unspoken words as if he is wrestling with his demons. I can almost see the silent battle raging in his eyes, a war against himself.
Words seem to be on the tip of his tongue, yet he doesn’t utter a single work, keeping them trapped within by whatever haunts him.
I gather courage and draw closer to him with a longing to connect, to understand, to share whatever burden, fear he is carrying.
“Dako-” * *Buzz* *
But the moment shatters abruptly as his watch vibrates with an intrusive sound of a reminder.
Dakota removes his arm from around me and glances at his wrist, with a flicker of resignation in his eyes.
“It’s time to take my pill.” He announces with a hollow echo in his voice and rises from the water.
A sense of loss washes over me as he walks away, creating an untouchable physical and emotional barrier around him.
Dakota wraps a towel around his hips and stride towards the locked medicinal cabinet, and with a swift motion of his fingers, the sealed hatch opens up.
From the bathtub, I watch him swallowing a pill from the little orange bottle, feeling a surge of complex-concerned emotions in me.
I want to hug him. I want to hit him with a stick. I want to sit down and talk more about his nightmares. I want to run away and colour my hair. *The FucK!*
My heart is again doing weird things in my chest and I have never felt this conflicted in my life.
“I’ll be going to bed, you can watch the movie if you like.” Dakota informs me in a matter-of-fact tone, before disappearing into his walk-in closet.
Once again, I am left alone, naked with bubbles.
And suddenly the movie doesn’t interest me. With a pang of disappointment, I rise from the bathtub and drape myself in a clean towel, before wearing my panties.
*At least he didn’t hide them all again!*
Instead of my dress, I pick his peachy shirt that still lingers with a faint hint of his aftershave and button it up.
Looking up, I find Dakota in black tracks.
Just in his black tracks.
Everything in me tries not to stare at his sculpted abs or that intricate wolf tattoo and with tiny steps of nervousness, I follow him to the room, that is just plain four walls.
We both stare at the left alone mattress on the floor, with a single pillow and blanket. The only island in this sea of emptiness.
“You wanna sleep here or wanna take it to your room?” Green eyes gazes me, studying my expression.
“Um, I am fine here.” I utter slowly, but my heart beat sky-rockets.
IT? What is ‘it’? My anxiety screams at me.
*Is he talking about having sex here, in this-this floor bed? Oh god!*
Dakota casually gets into his.. *Bed*. That is his mattress.
Whereas I feel my pulses banging in my ears, like I am getting close to death as I slide beside him. He has kept the room’s temperature close to that of getting frozen alive and I thither getting under the blanket.
An unexpected warmth spreads across my back as he draws closer to me and I almost bite a scream. My heart is thrashing so fast against my ribcage, I think it will jump out of my chest, in a desperate attempt to escape the intimidating presence behind me.
*I am so scared!*
His unpredictable nature has always been a puzzle, but tonight, it feels more pronounced, more ominous.
I shut my eyes tightly, and take deep breaths to calm myself, but then Dakota’s heavy hand curls around my waist, and my eyes snap open as he locks me in an inescapable position with him.
I stop breathing.
His touch almost possessive and I tense up, feeling his raw, rigid muscles pressing against my back, reminding me of his physical strength and what level of violence he is capable of.
*OhGoodBoyJesus!! I am so close to having a panic attack!*
Though he didn’t exert any kind of force on me, yet, I can’t ignore the dark, unsettling aura around him, which is contrasting sharply against his cute-cuddly behaviour.
It feels like I am sleeping beside a wild, unstable animal, whose soft touch can anytime turn into a latent power of hunt, depending on his mood.
My anxieties keep me wide awake in this torturous silence of the room, thinking what if he suddenly pounds on me from behind in a surprise move, just like other nights?
I am so paranoid by his erratic behaviour, that it is impossible for me even to relax.
“Dakota, do you.. want to have sex?” I ask him out with lashing thumps in my heaving chest. It’s better to ask than die every second with anticipation!
I hear him take a deep breath, and my insides contract in fear. I am so scared.
“No.” I feel his hot breath on my neck as he whispers almost tiredly. “I just want to sleep.”
His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me back towards his heated body as he presses his face into the crook of my neck, almost adorably.
A wave of relief washes over my anxieties, yet my heart doesn’t slow down from the intimate closeness of his embrace.
The thin layer of fabric separating us does very little to distract from the sensation of his hard abs grazing my back, his muscular hand resting on my stomach, and the warmth of his breath on my nape.
*Does he really mean to just sleep tonight, with no act of revenge?*
I stare at the warm yellow lights illuminating in the corner, waiting for them to fade into darkness, but they don’t. Just like yesterday.
“The lights don’t go off?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“No.” He simply replies.
I feel his gentle heart beats thumping through my chest and his warm breath fanning my neck, all calm and subtle.
“What about the furniture?” I probe, letting my curiosity take the front seat.
“I broke them all in anger.” He admits, in a low, distant voice.