Avalon City

Chapter 5

The first week flies by uneventfully. With most students away visiting their families, I have the dorm room to myself, which suits me perfectly. I've got plenty of work to keep me occupied, and I appreciate the lack of distractions.

Just last night, Becca, my roommate, called to tell me she wouldn't be returning as planned. Her visit with her family was extended until the day before classes resume, which leaves me with even more solitude.

Despite the peaceful days, my nights are tormenting. The dreams I've been having have intensified, becoming too terrifying and real to be called dreams anymore. Now, they're nightmares.

Waking from the most recent nightmare, I can't shake the feeling that it's more than just a bad dream. The taste of smoke lingers in my mouth, and the smell of it hangs in the air as if it weren't a dream but a real fire. Even gulping down a whole bottle of water can't wash the taste away.

A chill of unease grips me. I'm alone, and it scares me. God, I wish my parents were here. I miss the warmth of their comfort. Unable to stay in bed any longer, I get up and move around my room, blindly making my way to the window.

The outside is still dark, with only the faintest light suggesting that dawn isn't far off. I don't have anything planned today, especially without Becca. But I can't go back to sleep, not with the nightmarish images still fresh in my mind, making my empty apartment seem claustrophobic.

I yearn for Becca's company, hoping that the presence of my best friend could alleviate my fear. But for now, I'm alone. In need of distraction, I decide to go for a walk, hoping that some fresh air could help me chase the nightmare away.

I dress in comfortable clothes: black sweatpants, beige boots, and an oversized gray sweatshirt. I don't care what anyone, even Becca, thinks about my fashion choices. I'm not expecting to run into anyone else this early.

Once ready, I grab my keys and step out of my apartment, making sure to lock the door behind me. The corridor is quiet; I tread softly, not wanting to disturb the others.

I opt to take the stairs instead of the elevator. I can't stand the idea of being confined in such a small space. Reaching the ground floor, I step outside into the quadrangle.

There's no one else around. The silence and the cold breeze on my face are a relief. I start walking, hoping to complete a lap around the campus before anyone else wakes up. I don't want anyone to see the mess I am.

The nightmares still cling to me. They're like a dark cloud following me around, threatening to suffocate me. But I push forward, hoping the fresh air could at least help a little.

Just as the first rays of sunshine start to color the sky, I collide with someone. I close my eyes and brace for impact, but strong arms wrap around me and prevent me from hitting the ground too hard.

I open my eyes and gasp in surprise. It's him, the guy from the showers. I find myself drawn to his stormy gray eyes, and a part of me wants to know more about him. But I also feel a tinge of fear. I scramble away from him, apologizing profusely.

He smiles at me and reassures me that he's okay. Then, he leans in to inspect my lip, which I bit during our collision. I feel a shiver run down my spine at his touch and his closeness. His eyes roam over my body, a glint of desire in his eyes.

After a beat of silence, he gently squeezes my hand before releasing it. As soon as I lay eyes on him, I regret it. He runs his hand through his thick black hair, looking like a supermodel in the process. His hand pauses at the back of his neck, scratching it awkwardly. It’s a stark contrast to the confident energy he exuded just minutes ago.

"I'm Aamon. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier in the showers," he says, extending a hand towards me like we’re bros.

“Avery,” I mutter. “But you already knew that,” I add, annoyance flaring at the memory of the showers. I’m embarrassed about how socially inept I am at times.

Despite Aamon’s good looks and his near-perfect physique, why do I always end up sounding like a complete fool around him?

Aamon surveys the area before his gaze returns to me. He steps closer, invading my personal space. "I know exactly what you are," he whispers.

His word choice throws me off. He refers to me as a ‘what’ instead of ‘who’. The way he makes me feel uncomfortable is strange.

Before I can question how he knows my name, he asks, "So, Avery, why are you out here at such an ungodly hour? Shouldn't you be enjoying the holidays, getting some sleep or attending parties?"

His curiosity is palpable. As he moves even closer, I feel a strange calm wash over me. His chest is dangerously close to mine.

His minty breath fans my face, compelling me to respond, "I couldn't sleep. Nightmares are a good reason for insomnia." I never meant to explain myself to Aamon, but at least I dodge the rest of his prying questions.

"Ahh," he murmurs, barely audible.

However, the more pressing issue is the warmth emanating from him, causing me to lean in instinctively. I look at my feet, unsure of what to say next.

Our eyes meet again when I glance up. His stormy gaze is expectant, almost patient. Despite the comfort it provides, something about the situation makes my skin prickle.

My mind is swarming with questions, mostly about my constant encounters with Aamon. The handsome stranger seems oblivious to personal boundaries.

I don't step away, nor could I if I wanted to. He’s like a flame, and I'm the moth drawn to its warmth.