If You Ever Find Yourself Lost In The Dark & You Can't See, I'll Be The Light To Guide You (Azalea)

Friday 1 September 2028, 11:58am
Did you get Mimosa to school safely? When will you be heading over today? Xx

The message had remained unread until late in to the evening, and by then it was too late.

The arrangements at the Ministry had kept him much later than he'd intended. Jacques had done exactly as his parents had suggested, signing up for the Auror department of the French Ministry first. The next call would be to the army, and that was arranged for the Monday. It had been as he'd driven back that the man had remembered the text that had come through, and with a soft muttering under his breath, he'd pressed the call button to Kiranjeet's number.

It was declined on the second ring, and Jacques understood.

***

Jacques Clement had emerged from the new home of his girlfriend's on the Monday morning having made the reparations he'd needed to. The apology hadn't been an easy win over with the fiery Malaysian witch, but it had, eventually won her over with the time he had spent with her from the Saturday morning through to now. The reassurances that he did care for her deeply, despite his terrible actions in the recent past had done the trick, and the fact he had turned his phone off and given her his undivided for the weekend had paid off.

But it hadn't made things easier as he held her in his arms that morning.

It hadn't made it easier as he denoted that he wouldn't be able to contact her for the next six weeks very often. The disappointment in her features would be enough to claw at his heart throughout the process. Kiranjeet had slowly understood, though. His family, his country... it would always come before everything else in his life.

Even himself.

***

His father had been more than right when he'd told Jacques that the military training was not easy. Jacques Clement had underestimated the physical and mental challenge that would come with the training that would last six weeks. The young man had never really thought of himself as unfit in any manner, but the training had proved that what he did in the gym did not really touch the physical necessities that the army would ask of him. As soon as he had stepped through the gates, his name, his title, everything about him didn't matter. Officer Cadet Clement was not different to the man that stood to his left or right.

A drill that was soon learned by the man as he threw himself in to his work at the military academy.

Most nights, the Clement heir would climb in to bed too exhausted to do very much else. His phone would show the messages that had come through from both Mimosa and Kiranjeet throughout the day. As soon as his phone was showing as being online, undoubtedly it would light up with the number that would not stay away from him.

"Hello mon chouchou!"

***

It was the middle of October when Officer Cadet Clement would pass out from École Spéciale Militaire de Saint-Cyr. It would have been one of the usual celebrations, in truth, all except for the guests who attended. They may have striped the Officer Cadet of his titles within the setting, but nobody could do the same as the Lord and Lady Clement joined the multitude of families gathered. It had brought a whole fan fare with it, the media, the additional security detail. Everything reminded the world that a Clement had just joined the military ranks.

The official photograph of the trio would no doubt hit the front page of any and every European magazine the next day. The Lord and Lady Clement proud of their eldest child who had just become a member of the French Army at such a trying time.

The Palace had made it's own arrangements for celebration that evening when they had returned. A feast -- for that was all you could call it when you had been used to a very simplistic diet in the last six weeks -- had been laid out for their return. The army uniform had been swapped for a coat and tails, and Jacques could honestly not express just how welcome it was to lay in a bed that actually supported your back, rather than feeling every lump and bump beneath you.

With a week's leave before he was needed back at either the Ministry or his role within the army, the man had excused himself from his parents a day later, arriving to Kiranjeet mid afternoon on the Wednesday.

Or rather, the Hollyhead's training facility.

A bouquet of flowers in one arm, a bottle of Champagne in the other.

The Frenchman had beamed from ear to ear when Kiranjeet had finally come his way, hurrying in to his arms and holding him close.

"You've lost weight, Laddoo!" She'd commented, pulling back slightly. "Did the army not feed you?"

Jacques let out a small laugh. "Of course, but not as much as you do." He joked, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips that held for much longer than his Maman would ever find acceptable. A soft sigh of happiness escaped the witch as they broke apart.

"Saya rindu awak juga." Jacques said softly, holding his breath as he waited to see if he'd gotten the pronunciation correct.

Kiranjeet looked back at him dumbfounded for a moment.

"Did I-"

The witch's finger came up to the man's lips in response.

The training ground disappeared around them.

***

The hours had passed in a heartbeat, and almost as if nothing had happened at all. Neither one of them had really noticed the sky turn from a dull grey to a deep black, but at some point it had.

"Jacques?"

"Mmm," the Frenchman asked, the languid kisses upon the witch's shoulder not pausing in that moment.

"You can't honestly be..."

"What?" The man asked, pressing another kiss to her sternum.

"Ready."

A smile touch Jacques' lips in that moment, delaying the kiss he was about to press to her skin. "Why not?"

The soft sigh from the witch's lips as Jacques' lips found the target they'd intended only moments before -- the base of the column of the witch's neck was already showing signs of light bruises from the copious kisses he'd already provided her with. But they hadn't been enough, not for either of them.

Whatever retort Kiranjeet might have had, it never came. Instead, it left the man to explore the column once again, his fingers tracing over the gentle curves of her body anew. Until the witch pulled him closer, above her, her lips moving to find his and drawing him closer to her all the while.

RING! RING! RING!

The shrill sound of the ringtone he'd set Azalea broke through the all but silent backdrop of the room.

And then it cut off.

Jacques' lips had stopped as he looked across the room... Where had he left his phone.

"It's not important..." The frustration was clear in Kiranjeet's voice.

"It might be." Jacques countered as his text alert went off.

The Quidditch stars fingers locked together behind his head.

"Jacques, not tonight!"

"Something might have happened to Mimosa. Just, two seconds, please?"

Placing a kiss on the witch's lips -- well, what ended up to be her cheek as she turned her head from him -- Jacques had pulled back from the witch, and moved to find his phone.

The missed call from Azalea was the top notification, followed by a text.

Wednesday 18 October 2028, 11:38pm
Hi... Sorry about be call... Do you have a minute to talk? It's okay if you don't.

Wednesday 18 October 2028, 11:42pm
Give me two minutes, then I can. J x

"Azalea needs me for a moment." Jacques told Kiranjeet, looking around for his boxers, and then his shirt. After pulling both on, the man moved back to the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to his girlfriend's lips. "I'm sorry, I won't be long, I promise!"

Kiranjeet scowled as she rolled away from him, and Jacques let her.

Turning away from the bed, and moving towards the door of the bedroom that would take him out in to the main living area, the man pulled up Azalea's number and hit the dial button.

It only took a moment for Azalea to pick up.

"Hi, are you alright? Mimosa, Ivan, Adrienne, are they okay? Jake's alright?" The questions came out without hesitation, the concern clearly written in the man's voice as he waited for an answer from his half-sister to come through.

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

Azalea had once again woken up with tears running down her face, sliding into her pillow and dampening it as a reminder of something awful just happening, something she couldn’t not bring herself to remember no matter how hard she tried.

Upon waking up, the witch immediately shrank back, almost as if expecting an attack. It never came though, leaving her crying and shivering on her bed, trying to fight off the feeling of being violated without her knowledge. A tear streaked look at her clock showed she hadn’t even slept an hour and Leafy, vigilant as ever, was by the door, showing no signs of forced entry.

Yet something was wrong, she knew it was. How could she feel as if a part of her had suffered damages too severe to even recall? Why did she keep waking up to a nightmare she couldn’t remember, feeling a hurt that would never be reflected on her body and would feel all the worse for it. Whatever it was that came to visit in the murkiness of her subconscious left her raw and bleeding in the worst way possible.

Unknowingly, she reached for her phone. Eyes still blurry, she typed “Ja” in her contacts app and hit the first entry that came up. It was only when the second ring had gone through that she realised her error. In her haste to try and call Jake, she had accidentally rang Jacques Clement.

The witch called up the number she had wanted to contact in the first place, and then stopped. She could picture Jake in her mind, exhausted after a day of work, having to manage Adrienne on his own, answering her copious amounts of questions about where Mommy was. He would probably only have gone to sleep an hour ago.

He did not need this.

Opening up the text box to the Clement Heir, Azalea had intended to only apologize. But when it came to typing that the call was a mistake, her fingers wouldn’t comply. Instead, the pathetic plea for a few minutes of his time came forth. The message left her phone before she could think about it and by the time he had replied, it was too late to back out. Patting her face dry with her t shirt, she waited as his phone rang right at the two minute mark, punctual as always.

"Hi, are you alright? Mimosa, Ivan, Adrienne, are they okay? Jake's alright?"

“M-mimosa’s fine,” she assured him, her voice unsteady. “Ev-everyone’s fine,” she continued as her voice trembled, unable to pretend in the presence of a sympathetic ear. “I just-,” the tried to push the phone away when the first sob wracked her body, hoping he hadn’t heard. When she didn’t speak for a few more seconds, his concerned tone filled the other side of the phone again.

“Where are you?”

“Ho-Hogwarts,” she croaked. “Working tonight,” she added, her voice thick with uncontrollable grief because she knew she hadn’t been at Hogwarts just a little while ago. She had bene somewhere terrible and she didn’t know where.

“Is anyone with you?” he asked, slight tension apparent in his voice. In the background, Azalea could hear sounds of him moving around, rummaging through things, wherever he was.

“I’m fine,” she lied, only for him to cut her off.

“I’m on my way, Azalea.”

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If You Ever Find Yourself Lost In The Dark & You Can't See, I'll Be The Light To Guide You (Azalea) Rsz_gr10

If You Ever Find Yourself Lost In The Dark & You Can't See, I'll Be The Light To Guide You (Azalea) Rsz_az10

If You Ever Find Yourself Lost In The Dark & You Can't See, I'll Be The Light To Guide You (Azalea) Rsz_li10

The trembling of Azalea's voice had made the decision for the Clement heir almost as soon as she'd spoken. He couldn't leave her on her own once he'd heard the small sob that left her lips. He knew without a doubt that he had to go to her.

But first he'd ensured where she was.

That she was alone.

That Joshua Murray hadn't attempted something else.

"In on my way, Azalea." Jacques had informed her, turning back towards the bedroom where he'd left his girlfriend. The phone was cut off in the next moment, the Frenchman moving back through the bedroom door. Kiranjeet had her back to the door.

Moving across to the bed, Jacques leaned across, his hand gently testing upon Kiranjeet's waist. "Azalea needs me."

No reply.

"I won't be too long, I think."

No reply.

"Kiran..."

"Just go." Kiranjeet's voice was thick. Jacques paused, his brow furrowing as he took in her back that was held with tension in that moment.

"Mon-"

"Go."

Jacques didn't retreat despite the cutting word that hung between them. Instead he sat for a moment, trying to see if she would relax. The tension in his girlfriend's shoulder didn't dissipate, her breathing only growing shorter. Leaning forth, the man pressed a kiss to the witch's shoulder, before turning away to fine his clothes.

It only took five minutes to change. Grabbing a fresh shirt from his bag, and cleaning himself off with his wand, the Clement heir had left the apartment, all too aware of the fact Kiranjeet would be crying before he'd closed the door.

Outside, Jacques had spun on the spot.

The gates of ahogwarts loomed just ahead, and the Auror moved towards them with purpose. As he came closer, the groundskeeper appeared, likely alerted by the systems in place that kept the castle safe.

Unlike before the summer though, Jacques admittance was not freely given. A charm was used to confirm his identity. Questions were asked of his reason for coming to the castle, and a solid fifteen minutes later, the man had finally made it to the Entrance Hall of the castle. Immediately turning towards the dungeons, Jacques had descended the stairs at a half jog, past the Potions lab and the Slytherin dorm and down the hallway towards Azalea's room.

The knock on the door had been firm, but Jacques voice to denote his presence had been soft.

"It's only me, Azalea."

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

As soon as Jacques confirmed he was coming, Azalea's frazzled, half coherent mind flew into a panic. Should she tell him no? What excuse would she give? Would he even believe her? However, the Clement heir didn't give her the chance to refuse, hanging up instantly after his statement.

In the time it took him to arrive, Azalea checked the entrance to her quarters again and again despite Leafy's assurance that no one had been in. Going to her generous closet, the witch rifled through all the dresses hanging in their sheaths, perfectly ironed for the work week. No new dress appeared among them. Nothing seemed out few place.

And that made her more uneasy than anything else. It was a form of gaslighting she could never prove. Knowing something was wrong but reality insisting on proving otherwise.

Azalea made her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face to try and reduce the puffiness around her dark chocolate eyes, letting the water run down her T shirt and into her hair. It was too late for a full shower but she would have to end up scrubbing herself raw after Jacques left.

To wash away the filth of whatever had invaded the far recesses of her mind, and was continuing to stay there like a virus.

Grabbing a hoodie of Jake's she kept around for whenever she missed the Auror, Azalea wrapped her slender frame into the thick material. The garment fell to her mid thigh, eliminating the need for anything to wear underneath it.

It was as she was wondering if she had time to run a brush through her tangled, messy hair that she heard the knock on the door.

The witch froze, her breathing paused.

"It's only me, Azalea."

She let go of the breath she had been holding, moving towards the door and opening it to reveal the the former Slytherin at her doorstep, just as he had promised not fifteen minutes ago.

All her resolve, her attempts to clean herself up and present a more rational front collapsed in the instant she saw him, lurching forwards to bury her head in his chest as fresh tears began to gather on her eyelashes. The witch clung to him helplessly as she cried, small sobs turning into choked weeping as she tried to explain what had happened.

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Whatever Jacques had been expecting when the door opened, it was not as he would have thought. The door had barely opened enough to admit him in, but once it had, the man had stepped inside the room, his eyes scanning across it to try to find any sign of what was causing the distress to his half-sister. Nothing appeared out of place, and as his eyes moved back to the witch, Azalea had already moved forth in to him, her head tucking itself against his chest as sobs racked her body.

It was without thought that the man's arms folded around her slender frame, drawing Azalea close to him. A hand moved to gently stroke the witch's back as she sobbed in to his shirt, trying to reassure her that everything was okay. The broken words that tried to leave the witch's lips were incoherent at best, so the man simply waited.

Waited, but Azalea didn't calm.

"It's alright," Jacques told the witch carefully, dipping to his left slightly to pick her up from the position they stood in. It was only a short walk to the sofa, and the Frenchman gently lowered the witch in to the pillows. For a second she tried to stop him, but she relented, perhaps realising that he had put her down, or else thinking it too much. Jacques looked around for a moment, before his eyes landed on the kettle in the small kitchette the room boasted. Turning his attention back to the witch, Jacques motioned to the kitchenette.

"Would you like a cup of tea, or coffee?" He asked gently, waiting for a reply which came in the form of a nod.

Not quite an answer, but he could work with that.

"Okay, give me two minutes. I'm right here. You're safe."

Whether the assurance helped, Jacques didn't know. But after a moment, he stood, moving across to the kitchenette. The kettle looked to have enough water in it, so after flicking it on, the man found two cups. His hands paused at the choice of drink, but after finding the coffee jar to have a larger indent than the tea, the man opted for the former. The sugar bowl looked as if it hadn't been touched, so he neglected that, and poured out two cups of coffee once the kettle had popped.

Moving back with the likely too strong cups of coffee, Jacques offered one to the witch, before taking his seat next to her on the sofa.

"Now... how about we start at the beginning, and try to work through this?" The Clement Heir prompted, showing he was here to help. Listen. Comfort. Whatever it was she needed. "And if the coffee is terrible, please be gentle on my feelings." The joke was there to try to make the witch smile. Jacques Clement could never truly boast to being good at anything culinary, but the six weeks with the army had, at least, taught him to make a hot beverage that was... somewhat palatable.

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

In her mind, Azalea had pictured herself being calm, rational and coherent as she explained everything to the Frenchman. She was a teacher after all, explaining things in a clear and factual manner was a large part of her job description. She hadn't anticipated turning into a heaping, sobbing mess the moment a friendly presence arrived, but that was exactly what happened as she clung to the young auror, unable to explain herself and the sheer distress she was going through.

By the time the witch felt herself being kitted off the ground, she was already being settled back down on the sofa. Jacques said something about coffee and she nodded, trying to stem the flow of tears still steadily pouring down her face. But her guest was nothing if not a gentleman. Giving her room to dry her eyes and get the sobbing under control, he moved around in the tiny, barely used kitchen, making a cup of strong coffee she could smell all the the way from the sofa. The bitter scent calmed her nerves somewhat, making her breath the aroma in deeply. It was a sharp, South American blend Clara had included in her Christmas present and which Azalea had brought here because no eon else at the Newbury household enjoyed coffee the way she did.

By the time the Frenchman returned with two steaming cups, the sobs had died down to an occasional whimper and most of her teases were dry. Instead, Azalea sat curled on the sofa, hugging a cushion close to herself for comfort with both legs folded underneath her. Taking a cup of the bitter liquid form him, the brunette nodded gratefully.

"Now... how about we start at the beginning, and try to work through this?"

She nodded again brown eyes looking into his as he sat down beside her, holding his own cup. At his comment about the quality of drink, she tried to smile, the expression freezing halfway and not quite making it but she appreciated the sentiment. The witch took a cup of the steaming liquid, not waiting for it to cool. The bitterness that blazed over her tongue and down her throat felt good.

"I'm sorry," she managed, letting out a slight hiccup as she tried to speak. "Did you a-apperate all the way from France?" The last thing she needed to know as that she had interrupted his rare occasion for family time at the palace. "I hope I didn't take you away from your mom and dad."

Pausing, the witch took another sip of coffee, feeling it burn its way down to her stomach. It felt cleansing. As if what she had experienced could only be cleansed away by fire.

"It's... him," she began slowly, her on her cup as she admitted the truth she had kept to herself for so long. "I don't know how but... he's everywhere. He can get into out home in Surrey, he left me flowers when I was appointed deputy headmistress... He knows where I go, he followed me out to drinks with a friend and sent something to our table, he..." She stopped, taking a deep breath. The tears threatened to brim again but she fought them back.

"We tried to solve it, Jake talked to some people at his work. They increased security around the house but... I just know he isn't gone. He's... here too," she admitted in a whisper.

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The apology that came was unnecessary, and Jacques shook his head at the question of apparating away from his parents. "It's fine, you didn't pull me away from them." The man consoled, not correcting the witch in her thoughts of where he'd been. She had, clearly, forgotten that the Palace did not allow phones within the grounds, and he didn't need to remind her, or make her feel guilty at where he had just come from.

It was a short pause, after the waved away apology, before Azalea started again. In that time, Jacques simply waited patiently for the witch to compose her thoughts. To work out what she wanted to say.

"It's... him,"

There was no need to ask who Azalea was referring to in that moment. There was only one person that they could be speaking of that would cause such fear to be in the statement. Jacques' frame held a little bit tighter in that moment, his eyes not faltering from Azalea as she outlined what had happened. The thought of the Murray head distressing Azalea and her family left a bitter taste in the Auror's mouth, but he didn't speak as Azalea continued to explain what had happened since the summer. Actions that clearly showed Joshua Murray was not about to give up on the witch before him.

"He's... here too,"

At that, Jacques' eyes narrowed, looking away from the witch for the first time to take in the room around them. There was no sign of anyone else having been here, but Jacques doubted that would be obvious without further research. The security at Hogwarts had been revisited during the summer, after everything that had happened to Mimosa, the Palace had sent it's own people to check over the security before Mimosa would be allowed back to the school. He... couldn't have gotten in...

"What do you mean, he was here?" Jacques asked carefully. The tone would not suggest that the man didn't believe Azalea's statement, on the contrary, it would show that he believed her very much, but that he needed to understand more. "He would only be able to get in with permission... and, well... he doesn't have permission." They both knew why Joshua Murray didn't have access to the school anymore, his father had made it very clear that the man was not welcome wherever Mimosa might be. But if Azalea had seen the man within Hogwarts, Jacques did not doubt her for a second.

"Where?" The man prompted, hoping to get more information.

Placing his cup on the coffee table, the man's hand moved to his wand, drawing it from his pocket. If Azalea pointed him in the right direction, the Clement heir would go after the blond, no further questions asked.

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

"What do you mean, he was here?"

The brunette let out a small, frustrated sound at the question. Frustration not at the Frenchman but rather at herself for not being able to prove how Joshua Murray could have entered her living space in the middle of the night housed in a castle literally fortified against him. "I don't know," she admitted defeatedly. "I don't know how he manages to get in and out... But at the start of term feast he..." she looked to be on the verge of tears again but she steadied herself, forcing her lips to say out loud the words she hand's even confided to Jake.

"There was a dress in my room, with a note. the note had generic handwriting but it said this dress would suit me better than what I had on. Who else could have done that?" she questioned herself as much as the man siting with her. "He always had a... preference for what i wore... How i conducted myself.2 Once again, Azalea shook her head, trying to dislodge what felt like a faraway nightmare.

"And more recently, something's been wring when I sleep... It only happens when I sleep here. I don't know what happens when i sleep, I can't remember but i wake up feeling..." Her hands trembled violently as she tried to assign words to how it felt waking up sweating and crying in her bed, no wounds on her body but her mind feeling as if it had been pierced on every level. "Like I have to get out of my own body, my own head. It's like he's inside me somehow, Jacques and I don't know how to get him out."

A single tear trickled down her face as she continued to speak. "I'm scared for Jake and the children. I don't care what he does to me but if he can get into our house, if he can get anywhere at all, he can hurt them. And I would rather go back to Wales than risk Mimosa, Ivan and Adrienne."

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The sigh that left the witch made Jacques wince slightly. He hadn't meant to frustrate her, or push too hard before she was ready, but the fact remained that he hadn't understood how Joshua Murray could possibly be inside the castle without anyone knowing. Well, it wasn't impossible, the Murray's had their own contacts to make things happen, and they knew better than to underestimate the man. Jacques waited, watching her carefully to try to pick up on anything she might not be able to say.

But the story continued.

A story about a dress that had arrived before the feast -- so back at the start of September -- that was no doubt from the man who had already caused their family a lot of pain. It was difficult to remain calm upon hearing these words, but Jacques forced himself to suppress the anger that was boiling inside of him. Azalea needed him in that moment.

Which was why, as the witch's hand trembled around the mug of coffee he'd made her, Jacques reached forth, cupping her hands around the cup and holding them firm with the clear sign that that he was here, and that she was safe. Whatever Joshua Murray was doing, it wasn't going to get her now. The man's mind was zipping from left to right, trying to find an explanation for what Joshua Murray was doing, but he was drawing a blank. The castle was famous for being impregnable, but they both knew that it hadn't stopped Joshua before.

"And I would rather go back to Wales than risk Mimosa, Ivan and Adrienne."

"Hey... hey, look at me." Jacques insisted, not saying another word until Azalea's eyes met his. "You're not going back to Wales, you never have to go back to Wales, ever." He waited, trying to see that understanding in the witch's features, but it didn't come. "Nothing is going to happen to Mimosa, nor to Ivan, nor to Adrienne."

The continuation made the witch look like she was about to cry again, but Jacques shook his head.

"I promise you, we won't let anything happen to any of them. We will keep all of them safe, Joshua won't be able to touch them." Jacques insisted, squeezing her hands gently in his own to reassure her. "I'll speak to Maman and Papa tomorrow, and get one of ours to keep tabs on Adrienne, for your peace of mind. Don't argue." A small smile touched his lips as Azalea tried to say no, but it was soon gone.

"Mimosa and Ivan are safe, within the school." He reminded her, though he knew that probably meant little and less after the summer.

"But..." The Frenchman sighed, still trying to work out what was happening. "I don't understand how... And it's only here? Your sure it doesn't happen anywhere else?" At Azalea's confirmation, the man's brow furrowed, his eyes searching for an answer as they shifted around the room. "What's different here to home..." He mused, not really looking for an answer, but thinking aloud.

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Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

His touch was soft, reassuring as he wrapped his larger hand around hers holding the coffee cup. Once again, the French heir seemed to notice what she needed without her having to verbalize it. The small act of kindness made her wish she could tell him how grateful she was for his presence here but there would never be enough words to express her gratitude for all he and his family had done for her, Jake and the children.

"You're not going back to Wales, you never have to go back to Wales, ever."

Azalea had never wanted to believe anything as desperately as what Jacques said, but she didn't see a way out. Without her giving the blond what he wanted, he was making every place like Wales. But the man holding on to her kept assuring her that he could keep everyone safe. Even little Adrienne who believed she could take on the world by herself.

"I don't understand how... And it's only here? Your sure it doesn't happen anywhere else?"

"Just here," she confirmed, resigned to her fate. lowering their joined hands to the floor, she placed her cup down, not letting go of his comforting touch just yet as she selfishly clung to the man in the camouflage t shirt in front of her. "And not during the day, just when i sleep," she added, trying to give him as much information as possible. "During the day I think I get too busy to notice, but when i sleep... it feels like he's here. I always wake up thinking someone's broken in, I feel it inside me somehow. But not when i sleep normally with Jake."

Azalea had never divulged her sleeping issues to the young man, there had never been any need. It was also both terrifying and shameful to admit that she had been able to naturally sleep with Joshua Murray, a fact that made her hide her problems even more for fear of judgement.

"I even put in... fail safes, personal wards of a kind. And they always confirm that no one has been in. But I know he's in here. I'm not crazy, i promise. Somehow he's in here and I don't know how much of it I can take anymore."

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» And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad (Jake)
» Tu Hai Meri Azalea (Azalea)
» Light Up the Sky (Bro)
» At the speed of light (Bryant)
» The Perils Of Being Lost