Nine

Jeremiah stepped out of his room, wandering quietly into the dim hallway. He’d curled under his sheets, tossing, turning, trying to force sleep, but it was a lost cause. His mind wouldn’t quit replaying his awkward reaction to Everett’s question, suffocating under the weight of his own thoughts.

It was like his heart was calling for something. Or someone.

But that was ridiculous. Jeremiah had nothing, no one.

Despite pushing his worries aside, Jeremiah couldn't stop pondering his embarrassing reaction to Everett's question. He still couldn't believe he went into panic just from a simple tease.

He wished he were normal. That he had grown up in a happy family with plenty of love and care. He wished he wasn't so alone. That he wasn’t always this broken and anxious. He wished he could laugh at all Everett jokes like anyone else and not panic, but it's all just wishful thinking. 

“Jeremiah?”

A deep voice snapped him out of his spiralling thoughts and back to reality.

Jeremiah jolted, head whipping towards the sound. The last thing he expected was to find his new roommate standing in the middle of the kitchen with nothing but a jogger.

His eyes nearly popped from their sockets when he caught sight of Everett's naked chest, glistening slightly with sweat, with his joggers hanging dangerously low on his hips.

Jeremiah’s eyes dropped, shamelessly drinking in the ridges of Everett’s abs and lower to follow the faint trail of hair vanishing beneath his waistband. 

Oh, God. The man was carved like a freaking Adonis. He was nothing like anything Jeremiah was used to. 

“You’re still up?” Everett asked, “Is your wound bothering you?”

Jeremiah flushed, yanking his gaze back up. It didn't help that Everett was already looking back at him with a knowing smirk that showed he had been caught. Mortified, his cheeks burned bright red with embarrassment from getting caught. “I…I’m fine,” he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual. “What are you doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Everett admitted, moving away from the door to inch closer to the smaller man, slow and cautious. “What about you? Trouble sleeping?”

Why was he half naked? The question lingered at the tip of his tongue but he clamped his mouth shut, resisting the urge to let his eyes wander down his body again.

“It’s nothing new,” he muttered, his shoulders hitching in a shrug. “My sleep’s never been great.”

Everett’s eyes darkened with understanding and something else. Something Jeremiah couldn’t decipher.

“I thought the meds would help,” Everett said softly. “Guess not?”

"Drugs were never really any help,” Jeremiah admitted, taking a hesitant step forward. Somehow, talking to Everett eased some of his buzzing anxiety.

“I could make you some honey tea,” Everett offered. “It helps me sometimes when I can’t sleep.”

The offer sent something warm settling in Jeremiah’s chest. Unable to stop himself, he found himself shuffling closer. “Is that what you were about to make?”

Everett shook his head, grabbing a kitchen stool and pulling it out. “Nah. You should sit.”

Jeremiah flashed him a grateful smile before moving to sit. He couldn't believe he was having someone hold out a chair for him. It was never like this with Becca, especially since he was a man, which is probably why it felt awkward. 

“So what were you doing?” He asked again, trying to distract himself from the way Everett's intense gaze followed his every move.

“I went for a run.”

“A run?” Jeremiah blinked, “At three in the morning? Isn’t that… dangerous?”

 “I didn’t go far. And I was also very careful.” Everett chuckled, brushing off his worries.

Jeremiah squinted, unconvinced. “I still don't think you should risk it though.”

That earned a tiny smirk from Everett, one so dazzling it made Jeremiah’s breath catch in his throat. 

The quiet that followed felt less awkward though. Just strangely comfortable. Jeremiah realised he wasn’t anxious anymore. At least, not the same type of anxiousness.

“You sure it’s not me keeping you up?” Everett’s voice broke the silence. 

“No,” Jeremiah lied, too quickly. “Why would you think that?”

Everett’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t press.

“If it’s about earlier,” Jeremiah continued quietly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out over a joke.”

“Don’t apologise,” Everett said immediately, his frown deepening. “I should’ve been more careful with my words. You shouldn't apologise for how you feel.”

Jeremiah stared at him, oddly disarmed by his sincerity. How does he always know the right thing to say?

“If you want,” Everett continued, shifting in his seat, “We could start over. It feels like we got off on the wrong foot.”

“I’d like that,” Jeremiah replied almost immediately, trying to mask his eagerness behind his serious expression.

Jeremiah peeped up just in time to catch the small smile Everett gave and the little dent in his right cheek.

Oh my God, “You have a dimple?” Jeremiah gasped dramatically before he could stop himself.

Everett’s smile vanished instantly, his body tensing like he’d been struck. The sudden change in his expression drained the colour from Jeremiah’s face.

The familiar sting of fear slithered up Jeremiah's spine, his breathing seized as his fingers clutched the counter in a death grip, nails digging into the surface.

He’s not him, Jeremiah told himself desperately. This isn’t the same.

Everett was different.

But the reminder crumbled as quickly as it came. His panic didn’t care. The familiar darkness pressed in and swamped around his mind, dragging him under like cold, suffocating water.

Everett’s eyes widened, his posture shrinking as though to make himself smaller. “Jeremiah_,” He cooed carefully, reaching forward, but Jeremiah flinched back with a horrified expression and a frightened gasp. 

The shattered look on Everett’s face clawed at Jeremiah's inside but before he could say anything, Everett was already pushing back his chair and stood abruptly.

“Fuck,” Everett muttered under his breath, turning sharply on his heel and storming out of the kitchen without a backwards glance.

Jeremiah watched him disappear with his mouth agape and his heart sank. His fingers loosened around the counter as disappointment swelled in his chest. He slumped further into the seat, his fingers trembling as he brought them together. 

A low, dark chuckle slithered through the air, freezing Jeremiah in place. His instinct immediately sent him scrambling to his feet. A raw scream tore from his chest, as his eyes locked onto the impossible figure before him.

“So you really thought you could run from me, Caro?” the voice sneered, dripping with cruel amusement.