Harlan
He woke up again, in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat. The figures in his nightmares were still visible despite his open eyes.
He sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his moist hair. That wasn't real. He was safe. He kept repeating that to himself over and over again, turning it into a mantra.
Once he was able to ground himself, he thanked the goddess Maya hadn't heard him this time. He'd have to lie to her again. It wasn't like he wanted to. He just couldn't talk about it yet.
But he was better. He was trying because he wanted to be better for her. Because maybe he'd deserve her. He shook his head, eliminating those thoughts from his mind.
She wanted to be friends. Only friends. She'd made that clear.
He needed a shower. It would help him relax.
He walked into the bathroom only to feel a presence.
He spotted her seconds before she spoke in her London accent.
