The Edge Of Sleep Novels & Stories

Tumbling in a crashing, cascading waterfall ‘round corners, hurtling downward into sudden calm. The almost imperceptible rustle of shadows clinging to corners. And whispers on the delicate, fraying edges of dream. Voices mumbling. Low. Impossible to hear, to understand. but there, nonetheless. Syllables caught, sometimes, if she were to listen. Yet sleep called, those tattered edges skirted, exhaustion enveloping her. The whispers now words saying There is no book as Eidolon coaxed her from day into dream. ***

When she heard noises around her, she pushed the person near her away in frustration, then continued to sleep. The bed was small. The two of them had actually slept together the whole night. Edward was pushed off the bed. His legs hurt so much that he gritted his teeth in pain. He was shocked for a long time and took some time to come back to his senses. ‘How did I… sleep so soundly the whole night on this tiny bed…? ‘… with Trent, the she-devil?! ‘Am I going crazy?’ “Sir, please eat something. Do you want to wake Ms. Hill too…?” the assistant whispered.

Lila sat beside me in the waiting area with a paper cup of vending machine coffee in her hands while I stared blankly at the floor tiles for what had to be the hundredth time. "You should eat something," she said softly. I shook my head without looking up. "Ezra." "I said I’m fine." The lie sounded weak even to me. I hadn’t slept properly in almost two days. My mom’s surgery had taken longer than expected, and every time a doctor walked through those double doors, my heartbeat shot up hard enough to make me nauseous. Lila sighed quietly beside me but didn’t push again. That was the thing about her. She knew when to stop.

Those lips, which had sent shivers down my spine the night before with their unspoken promises, now seemed even more tempting, a soft pink dusted across their surface. His sleep wasn't entirely peaceful though. There was a slight furrow between his brows, a hint of a worry line that creased the otherwise serene landscape of his face. It was a stark contrast to the Eddie I knew during the day, the man who navigated the corporate world with an air of unwavering control. Here, asleep next to me, he seemed… human. Vulnerable. The urge to brush away that worry line, to chase away whatever troubled his dreams, became an overwhelming feeling. Leaning closer, I gently pressed a kiss to the furrow, m

Safe. When sleep pulled me under, it was with Edward’s arms around me, his hand resting protectively over my stomach, his lips pressed to my temple. And for the first time since this all began, I slept without nightmares.

’ I resumed reading, and before I knew it, I was far into the manuscript, unable to stop. * I quietly crept out of the room, tiptoeing to the living room. I found Edgar on the worn-out couch, fast asleep. He had his sword against his chest as he slept. I couldn’t sleep from my nightmares again, and I guessed maybe sleeping next to him would make me feel safer.

All I can do is journey the wave as it sweeps me away. I crumple on the mattress. My heart beats too fast, and I can’t trap my breath. “Holy shit,” I control to say. “Holy. Shit.” Eros then stood at the edge of the bed, staring at me. I can’t help but note the challenging length of him jutting from his body. Apparently, I’m not the only one who loved that performance.

They stood on opposite sides of the mattress like diplomats at a border. “It’s temporary,” Edward said quietly. “Of course.” She turned off the lamp. Darkness wrapped around them. The mattress dipped slightly as he lay down. A moment later, she did too. The space between them felt charged. Electric. She could hear his breathing. Controlled. Measured. But not entirely steady. “You don’t move much when you sleep,” he said softly. “You’re assuming I’ll sleep.” A pause. “You will,” he replied. She wasn’t sure.

Neede‌d me c​ooperative. Which‌ meant‌ I had some‌thing they were afraid to l‍ose. I s‍at on the e⁠dge of the bed. Held the shard. Pressed it again‍st my wrist. Not hard. Just en‌ough t‍o f⁠eel t​h​e edge bit​e.

He mumbled under his breath while subconsciously digging his nails into the tiled floor. He finally understood that I wasn't being lazy on purpose. I also wasn't just playing dead or pretending to ignore him just to spite him. I really couldn't help myself. I had only suddenly collapsed during the exam today because of this sleep attack that was clearly written on this medical document. Dad suddenly rose to his feet and pulled open the bottom-most drawer in my desk, where a pair of compasses with dry blood stains and an old, worn diary were hidden in the furthermost corner.