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She stops, pulling one book out, and settles on the floor against the comfortable chair in the corner of the room. She cocks an eyebrow when she catches me watching her, and I spin back around to continue going through shit. It’s almost impossible to focus knowing that she’s sitting there.
After a while, I chance another look, and she’s upside down in the chair. Her feet are propped up on the top with her head hanging off the edge of the seat. Half-dried wavy bright blonde hair cascades to the floor, and the book is positioned in front of her face. Her eyes move rapidly over the pages, taking in the words.
It makes me smile. Josie didn’t have to sit there, but she did. She could have taken the book into the living room. She could have taken it anywhere, but she didn’t. My presence is all she wants. Simple.
Several hours pass, and the moon is high in the sky. The next time I look at her, she’s sideways in the chair, her feet dangling off, with the book slipping from her hand onto the floor. The bottle of liquor she'd come in with is empty. Her eyes are closed, asleep. The beautiful girl is sleeping, albeit uncomfortably. She didn’t leave. I weigh the risks of moving her but decide to put her to bed.
I scoop her into my arms. She doesn’t wake immediately. I carry her into my bedroom and lay her onto the mattress.
“Mhm." I bend down next to her and push her hair out of her face. She wakes, shrinking away from the touch, but then she leans into it. Her tired silver eyes flutter open. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Josie tries to sit up, but I push her shoulder back down. I can see how tired she is. It looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Not since I laid down beside her in her bedroom. I pull the sheets over her. Her lids are heavy with exhaustion. When she realizes that she’s in my bed, she fully opens her eyes, ready to argue.
“Don’t,” I command. She gives me a dirty look and pulls the blankets up to her chin. I make a move to leave, and she makes an irritated noise.
“Where are you going?” she yawns. I lean in the doorway of the dark room, her eyes shining at me from under the blankets.
“Where do you want me to go?”
“It’s your bed.” She tries to sound snippy, but she’s so tired that it just sounds like a statement of fact. It’s as much of an invitation as I’ll get.
I trudge over, pull my shirt over my head, and slide under the covers next to her. I lay out on the opposite side of the bed, making sure I keep my distance. I don’t expect her to acknowledge me, but she does. Josie scoots her body into mine. In the darkness there's a lump where she lays. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to touch her. She flips over and inches into me again, with her head tucked under my shoulder.
Josie doesn’t say anything, and I hover my arm above her, unsure. She sighs loudly, purposefully, so I shove my arm under her and lift her head onto my chest. The girl of my dreams is in my bed, and she’s sleeping. It’s the most intimate thing you can do with a person. The most vulnerable for someone like her.
“I like you,” she murmurs into my skin, a little drunk.
“I know.” I trace a scar on her shoulder absentmindedly. Her hand slithers from under the covers and traces the ones on my throat.
“I used to think I loved him, too,” she says quietly.
“The boy who died?” I clench my jaw. I can feel it twitching.
“Yes.”
I’m jealous, I can’t help it. “Used to?”
“Until I met you.” Her words are suspended above us.
“You feel it, too?” I ask her. Our souls are intertwined, but I don’t know how.
“It feels like…cosmic or something stupid. That’s what it feels like, right?”
Like moths to flames we can’t resist each other, and I’m ready to burn. I’m grateful that she feels it, too. The confirmation eases me somehow. She’ll always be back.
“Inevitable,” I agree.
“But doesn’t it feel like it’s tragic? Like there’s a darkness deep inside of it?” she hesitates.
This is the part I've been trying to ignore. The unsettling thing my father said has bothered me since the first time we spoke about her. Fate is a dreadful mistress. I don’t know what he meant, but it doesn’t sound good. It’s been easy to ignore it when I’m with Josie. It feels like the darkness is creeping up on us, but it doesn’t feel wrong, per say. It feels like we’re consuming each other, creating a whirling void.
I swallow and nod, not able to voice it.
“So we’re doomed then?” Her revelation sounds almost hopeful.
“Undeniably so.”
We’re doomed. Doomed to be together; doomed to fall in love; doomed to fall prey to the demons; doomed for destruction. Whatever we do, we are doomed. Our love will be catastrophic, but it feels like I've been waiting for an eternity to see her again. It feels like I lost the greatest treasure, and I’m finally getting it back. Maybe there’s more to our lost memories. I’m going to meet with Hades, and I plan to ask him about it. I don’t believe in coincidences anymore.
