7. Don’t Look at Me Like I’m the Weird One
7
Don’t Look at Me Like I’m the Weird One
L ooking at the abnormally large black eyes, she was sure she was looking into the eyes of the devil.
The silver blade inched closer and closer to her right eye until it was mere centimeters from her pupil.
“Don’t blink.”
A tear welled up in her eye, making it even harder to keep her eyes open. Her body began to tremble. She was going to blink.
“Don’t blink, little girl,” he warned again.
The tear fell, and her eyes started to close …
“Eira … Eira … Eira!”
The lulling sound of her name getting louder brought her back to this universe.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, jolting herself awake. Eira sat up, bundling her blanket around her in an attempt to safely be cocooned from the dark figure of the man standing over her.
The figure reached over, turning on the soft glow of the lamp on her bedside table. “I promised you I wouldn’t touch you, and I didn’t.”
Her racing heart began to steady at seeing it wasn’t the devil’s dead black eyes who haunted her sleep staring back at her, but Ryu’s warm, glowing ones. She checked her right eye to see it was perfect, then her left to feel the imperfection of the burns surrounding it. She was safely back in her body.
His jaw flexed in a tight clench. “It wasn’t without difficulty, though.”
“You really didn’t touch me, did you?” she whispered in disbelief that he kept his promises so fiercely.
“Trust me.” Running his hand through his disheveled hair in anguish, he sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to calm himself down. “You’d know it if I did, darling.”
Eira didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, yet she loosened her protective cocoon. It was obvious there was nothing to fear in his presence. Whatever code he lived by was extremely important to him, and she knew she herself was becoming just as important to him with each passing second. She knew it because, like he’d said, she felt it, too. As her heart continued to steady, she noticed his steady alongside hers.
“You scared the hell out of me, Eira.” Ryu didn’t try to hide the agony he had gone through while she was under and screaming. “I’ve never seen anyone have a nightmare like that.”
Still remembering the way those soulless eyes had made her feel and the touch of the cold blade piercing above her eye right before she had awoken, she shook her head, wishing she could forget it. “I’m not so sure it was.”
He looked at her strangely.
“Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like I’m the weird one!” she cried before shivering at the chill that ran up her spine. “I’ve just never had a nightmare like that.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, softening his features so she wouldn’t think he was judging her.
Eira didn’t know how much she wanted to reveal, yet she wanted him to understand. “Usually, my nightmares are always the same, but this one was different … like it wasn’t mine.”
“And how often do you have these nightmares?” he asked after his eyes had drifted to the cup of tea her grandmother had given her earlier in the night. She had barely made it to bed and had taken the last sip before she passed out while her grandmother made a bed on the couch for him.
She thought for a moment, remembering the one from earlier in the day. “I-I actually had one earlier when I fell asleep on the mountain, but that was the first time.”
“And what are yours about?” he asked softly, wondering about the nightmares she usually had.
Now Eira didn’t know what to say. What was she was supposed to tell him? That every time she closed her eyes, nightmares of the past haunted her so much that she’d rather suffer not sleeping at all most nights? Yeah, right . All she needed was for him to think she was a monster, like everyone else did.
“It’s your fault!” she realized, saving her from the subject. “You’re the reason I’m having these dreams that aren’t mine.”
“ My fault ?” It was clear he took offense.
“Yes, your fault,” she reiterated, knowing it was true. “Because each time I’ve had one, I’ve woken up to you staring at me. And don’t try to tell me it’s a coincidence, because coincidence, I think not—”
“I wasn’t going to,” he answered, as if deep in thought now.
“Oh.” Clearing her throat, she did some softening herself. “W-why do you think that is?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly, still trying to figure it out. “But I’m sorry if I am causing it.”
Reading the worry on his face, she hadn’t meant for him to feel bad. “It’s okay. I’ll be all right.”
“When we go back to my village, I think I know someone who can help.”
Eira blinked back at him. “When we go back to your village?”
“Yes.” He nodded like it was already a done deal.
“And where is that?” She couldn’t bite back her sarcasm. “Ine? Where you teach martial arts to sweet little children?”
Ryu cleared his throat. “I do to teach martial arts to children.”
“Sure, you do.” She laughed, unconvinced. Ryu’s code simply made him a terrible liar. “Are you at least going to tell me the name of the village you really live in?”
“Nope.” Standing up, he reached for the lamp to turn the soft glow back out. “I’m going to show you.”
“Sure, you are.” She laughed, convinced he had fallen from the sky at this point. She only stopped laughing when she sneezed.
“Bless you.”
“Are you”—following his voice and squinting in the dark to see his voice had come from the floor, she could barely make out he had moved the blankets and pillow her grandmother had placed on the couch for him, to sleep right outside her bedroom door—“sleeping on the floor?”
“Yes,” he replied unapologetically.
“Were you sleeping there before?”
“Uh-huh.” Still no remorse in his tone.
Eira just shook her head in the dark, knowing it was pointless to talk him back into sleeping on the couch. Again, her mind tried sending alarm bells that the strange man was now sleeping right outside her door, but her heart simply warmed as she snuggled deeper into her bed. “Well, could you at least close the door?”
“Not a chance.” Ryu rested his own head softly on his pillow. “Good night, darling.”
She only hoped the smile that touched her lips couldn’t be heard in her voice. “Night, Ryu.”