Empty Graves And Shallow Hearts

“Oli?”
I snapped up, surrounded my darkness.

‘Another dream.’
I flipped over and pulled the clock on the nightstand closer to me, squinting to read the time

2:20

‘Oh gee, a whole thirty minutes after the last one.’

I sighed. I didn’t even understand why I was dreaming about him. It’s not like anything really happened.
It was just a kiss.

That’s what I kept telling myself.
That, plus the fact that I had only known the man for about three weeks, should have been enough to tell my damn brain to stay away, that he was friend material and nothing more. Three weeks shouldn’t be so much to make me want to see him every day, let alone dream about him.

I laid back down, letting my body bounce against the mattress. A groan shot through the air from next to me, making me jump and sit up yet again.
‘Oops.’

“Sorry Ky.”

“Whatever woman.”
She rolled over, adjusted the blankets, and soon was sleeping once again.

I was spending the night at Kylie’s. It wasn’t really planned, but she insisted. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, except for the fact that the man named Oliver was sleeping in some other room under the same roof.

I hadn’t said anything to the others about my. . . encounter with Oli, but they could tell that there was something going on when he and I kept talking after walking out of Victoria’s Secret.

When everyone was going to bed, and Kylie, Brandon and I were getting ready, they pretty much attacked me with questions. Any and every idea they could possibly think of was asked, only to be denied, mostly because none of the things they came up with could have happened. When they asked if he had finally admitted he was madly in love with me, I denied that as well, even though it was only half untrue.

He admitted something, but it wasn’t really love per say. Then again, I didn’t even know what to call it.

They finally gave up though, with pretty much all their questions unanswered.

Now I was still sitting up in Kylie’s bed, thinking this over.
And my thoughts wandered back to him, back to that kiss.
I felt a smile coming on, and laid down, yet again.

Finally comfortable, I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to takeover.

Then something hit me.

The room went cold.
My head felt like it was on fire.
The room heated up.
It was cold again.
My skin was buzzing, itching, stinging; pain shooting throughout my body.
I rolled, trying to get rid of it.
Nothing felt right.
I tried to stand up, almost instantly tripping over myself.
My body felt unbelievably heavy.
A few steps carried me to the bedroom door. I clutched the doorjamb and slid down the wall. Standing was nearly impossible.
I couldn’t breathe.
My clothes were sticking to me. I realized it was from sweat.

I sat there outside the bedroom in silent agony, waiting for some sort of relief.
Then something else hit me.
It had been two days since. . .
My needs were kicking in.
I needed to find my bag, and I needed to fast.

Standing was still out of the question.
I clawed the carpet, shifting myself until I was on my hands and knees.
Crawling was a burden, easier than two feet though.

My duffle bag wasn’t in Kylie’s room. Anywhere.
Desperation was growing inside me.

Clouds of pain, a hailstorm of frustration and urgency thrashed my brain.
I attempted to retrace my steps. They came through in short, one and two worded thoughts:

Mall.
House.
Dining room.
Bathroom.
Living room.
Dining room.

The dining room.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my legs underneath me. I couldn’t go crawling around the house. Maybe it was in there, maybe it wasn’t. I had to check, I had to find it.
Scooting against the wall I slid up, supporting myself with whatever my hands could use.

It hurt, but I was standing. I took a step forward. Sweat blasted through my pores. Another step. The urgency was growing. A third step, a fourth. I counted them, one by one, rushing to the dining room.

There it was.

I gasped and stumbled forward. I grabbed it and dug around, finding my things. Scrambling into the kitchen, everything gathered together, my hand shook as I tried to move things about, fix it all, and cure myself.

One rushed little prick in the arm, and finally, salvation found me.

I slumped on the floor, my back against the counter, my eyelids slowly falling shut.

Through the silence, there was a click, and then a crash.

Someone was up.

Hurriedly, I searched around for my bag, finding it flung halfway across the kitchen. I opened it, and rushed back to the counter I had been sitting under, swiping my things into the duffle.

I started heading into the living room, but the person beat me.

A hallway light turned on and within seconds and I froze like a deer in headlights. Within seconds, Oli emerged from the doorway.

‘Of course he has to be the one up.’

I tried to duck into the darkness, but he already saw me.

“What are you doing up?” He yawned.

“I was just hungry,” I lied. What was I supposed to tell him? I needed my fix, so I was shooting up heroin a minute ago. Yeah right.
“It’s cracker hour though honey. Are you a cracker?”

He asked the question with a really weird voice; the word “loony” came to mind.

“Nope,” I pointed a finger at him, “I’m guessing you are though.”

He laughed. “Oh definitely. I shoot up heroin too. ‘Cause you know only true rock stars do.”

A lump instantly formed in my throat. I felt so stupid.

“Whoa, are you ok?” A bit of worry crossed his face.

“Yeah I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem… upset.”

“Nope. I’m just fine and dandy my friend.” A yawn started, stretching through my mouth. I attempted to cover it with my hand. When that one was over, another one started.

This was a bit embarrassing.

“You’re definitely tired, that’s for sure.” He smirked. “You ought to go back to bed. It’s early.”

Time had totally escaped me, I realized. I had no idea what time it was. How long I had been sitting on the kitchen floor? I prayed it hadn’t been more than an hour.

As if he had been reading my thoughts, Oli nodded toward the digital clock on the microwave. “It’s 3:10 right now.”

“I’m not that tired though.” Another yawn came on. Damn my bodily functions.

“Right, okay. Whatever Raina.” His eyes fell on the bag in my hand. “What’s that?”

Instinctively, I pulled it to my chest. “My bag.”

“Why are you running around the house with it?”

“I needed to get something.” I was secretly praying he’d just leave it alone.

“At three o’clock in the morning?”

That made me feel stupid again. “Yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow, but shrugged his shoulders a bit and dropped the subject. “Whatever then girl. You still need to go back to bed.”

I didn’t feel like arguing with him, I just wanted him to go away. I needed to finish cleaning and wanted to go lay down on the couch. I knew if I was to go back into the bedroom Kylie would probably wake up, and get all pissed off. I didn’t need the raging thunderstorm that was Kylie’s morning grouchiness.

“Alright. Good night then.”

“Good morning actually.” He winked and walked right past me towards the living room.

“Where are you going?” I followed him through the dining room.

“I thought you were going to bed.” He didn’t even bother turning around. “But if you must know, I was going to watch a little television.”

“Oh, okay.” I slipped away from him really quick, and buried my bag amongst the others that were sitting in a corner in the dining room. It would be safe there, I figured, at least until I left the next morning.

When I got to the living room, the T.V. was already on, with Oli sprawled on the biggest, comfiest couch.

He barely looked up from the blinking box. “Aren’t you going to bed?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I shot back.

This time he really looked at me. “Don’t answer my question with a question.”

I crossed my arms and shifted my weight to one side, sticking my right hip out a bit. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

The seriousness disappeared from his features, and he laughed a little. “You sound like my mother.” He lifted his legs off the couch and patted the cushion. “Come sit next to papa.”

“You sound like my best friend.” I smiled and plopped on the couch, sitting closer to him than I probably should have.

Oli draped an arm over the pillows behind him. “Kylie calls herself papa?”

I chuckled, staring at the cartoons in front of me, but barely paying attention. “Yeah, sometimes. She’s just fun like that.”

“Dang.”

Maybe it was just me, but I could have sworn I felt him move closer to me, just a little, as if he didn’t want me to notice.

“Yep, it’s the way we are.”

“I see.” I spotted a cute little quirky smile on his face.

“I don’t even wanna know what you’re thinking of!” I lightly kicked his leg and laid down, my head on the opposite him.

“So I just get your feet?” He smirked.

I kicked him again, and rested my feet on his thighs. “Yep. You make a good foot rest.”

“Oh whatever.” He sighed. There was a moment of silence. Then he grabbed my ankles and dragged me over, while he scooted closer to the middle of the couch. My legs were now hanging over the armrest, my head on his thighs.

“That’s better, don’t you think?” He smiled down at me.

“Sure.” I smiled back. Now, I was kind of glad he had woken up.

We continued our conversation, for god only knows how long, sometimes a bit distracted by the T.V.

Slowly, happily, we drifted into sleep.