HIM
I watch her go down the stairs, staring at where she disappeared long after she's gone. Ever since the moment that she burst into the room—I haven't been able to think straight.
That dress should be criminal. Its drapes and folds cling to her, a dramatic change from her usual perfectly pressed uniform. It makes her seem as though she is floating. And her hair. It flows around her like a fluffy cloud, woven with flowers that bring colour and life to her face.
It takes everything in me not to reach out, to touch the individual curls and brush them from her face. I've been stumbling like a lost puppy after her all night.
When Lady Anna dragged me over I was actually building up the courage to go over myself. Dancing with her—it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. I've been to these things a hundred times, danced with lots of pretty girls—but none of them had left me like this. Breathless. Desperate for another dance.
I'm still staring after her when I see the Valet stumble down too. I frown, debating for a second. Tonight, to the best of my knowledge, she faked an injury to get away from him. That, and when they were dancing she looked like she was going to be sick, or run. A sick feeling settles in my stomach, spreading through my body.
I'm moving the next second.
As I move, a strange, deadly sort of calm settles in my veins. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as I charge towards where I saw him disappear.
I don't see him at first. I pass the men's hallway—empty. Stairway—quiet. Then I hear it. The low hum of a voice. And a door. Rattling like someone is trying to get in.
That's when I run.
Oh god, Laura. Please.
I don't check my speed when I see him, pushing against the door and pawing at it like a pathetic mongrel. Instead, I collide with him full force, grabbing his collar and pinning him against the wall. He lets out a pathetic protest, which I ignore immediately. It's not often I use my strength to be intimidating, in fact, I used to resent it sometimes, so quick to scare people off. Now though, I relish it. I enjoy watching his face blanch in fear as pathetic excuses and pleading spew from his mouth. I stay there for a moment fully taking in the situation. Hearing panic breathing and quiet sobs through her door, I tighten my grasp.
"Now now, you seem lost." I say, even my voice sounds foreign, dark and terrifying. A low growl in the night.
"Now-n-now no need for theatrics." I tut slowly, shaking my head.
"See what I think needs to happen is you need to run back to your room before I beat your greasy head in." A part of me hopes she isn't listening, that she knows this isn't who I normally am, but then again, I don't regret the words, and know without a shadow of a doubt if he tries anything else, I won't hesitate. I can't even imagine how I would've reacted if, god forbid, he had gotten in before I got here. My mind shudders away from the thought and I remind myself Laura is smart, she would've gotten out one way or another, by blocking the door or calling for Mrs. Hobbs. Even though I remind myself over and over my fury doesn't want to fade. Disgust is thick in my throat, for such a man, a disgusting drunk who uses the world as he wishes. I'm willing to bet this isn't the first incident of the sort. No, a beating would not be undeserved.
I know, though, what Laura would want, at least I think I do. I let him go and he hits the floor running. He's gone in seconds. If I'm caught in the maid's hallway I'll be in trouble, deep trouble. Yet I pause, listening at the door, now only hearing silence.
I press my hands against the rough wood, wishing she could feel me through the door. "He's gone," I whisper the words, but I know she hears, "I'll make sure he stays in his room, so he doesn't bother anyone." There is no response.
My hands shake when I pull them back from the door. Only then do I realize they hurt—from pressing him against the wall.
I look at the door once again. I want to knock. Say something. But what could I possibly say?
I was too late.
Almost too late.
God if I had been thirty seconds slower…
I press my forehead to the door. Just for a second.
I wish she could hear the words I don't know how to say.
Let me protect you. Let me in.
I listen only a second more before I hear stirring down the hallway, likely Mrs. Hobbs coming to check or one of the final maids going to bed.
I slip out on silent feet, wishing more than ever I could stay—sitting by her door—all night.
HER
He's gone. I know he's gone. Yet I remain, pushed against the door, silent tears streaming down my face. I can barely breathe.
I was holding the door. It was slamming back forth against my hands.
And suddenly—
I was in the library again. The sound of my gasping breaths. The shadow falling over me. That same voice that haunts my dreams, cooing in the dark.
I forced myself to focus. The door. Hold the door.
Now though, with no more threat, I drown in the memories.
Weight crushes my chest and my breaths come fast and shallow. It takes long minutes for my body to untense, and even then I only slide to the floor, my muscles sore from the struggle.
My mouth stays open in silent scream, begging for release. He's not here. He's far away.
Tonight it wasn't the valet knocking at my door, no, it was a ghost, coming back to haunt me.
I cover my ears and curl myself towards my knees.
My arms shake and my stomach churns, threatening to bring up all the food I ate tonight. I clap my hand over my mouth and curl tighter. My eyes are wide open, straining against the dark. Because if I close my eyes, I will see it all again. That's the worst part.
I don't want to sleep. I don't want to dream.
Because I will never be able to leave that dark library. I smell the old books. Hear the heavy door groan. See his shoes in the dim light before I see his face.
I never scream in time.
The silence presses in, but it's not the only thing strangling me.
The blinding light comes again—through the door across the library—and I am stuck, trapped, in that moment. Unable to run, unable to hide. Over and over I watch that door open and the light flood in. Never alone, always afraid. My nightmares. My memories. My life.
I think I heard Aleksi's voice. I think he said it's over.
But the ghosts tell me they'll never leave me.
And I'm not sure who I believe more.