*** This story contains some mild language, suspense, romance, and some frightening images and situations—13 and older, please.

In the Grip of Twilight

By:

Olivia Tannis Moore

Chapter Sixty One:

Dizzy

We spent the rest of the night and into the wee hours of the morning in our room talking.

Edward had an endless supply of questions as we sat on the bed with the table lamp on dim. For a while, his questions centered on the transformation: "Do you need sleep? To eat? Did you get tired, you know, after running through the tunnels and forest all night?"

My answer to these questions was, "Sometimes. It's like I have to recharge the human side of me. But I don't need food or sleep as much as I used to."

"Are you sleepy now?" he asked, his eyes studying my face for the old signs. He wouldn't find them, not now. I was emotionally frazzled from my secrets, but I'd noticed that my face didn't show any visible signs of wear since the transformation.

"No," I told him. "I drifted off to sleep this afternoon while waiting for your flight to come in."

He nodded and then interlaced his fingers with mine. He leaned back on the pillows, pulling me down to rest my head against his cool shoulder so that he could smooth my hair. "I don't know, maybe it's just everything you told me…I guess I expect you to be tired after all that."

"If I was only human, I would be exhausted by now. Being a hybrid definitely has its perks."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But I can't shake this feeling that there's something weighing on you." His fingers found my chin and lifted so that he could see my eyes. My heart skipped a beat, suddenly afraid he would start asking the questions I dreaded.

He must not have liked what he saw as he stared into my eyes. "I don't want you to worry about this war business. You've been through enough as it is. And whatever happens, we're here now…and we're not going to let anything happen to you." He dabbed his finger playfully on the end of my nose. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Got it?"

"Got it," I said, relieved. I didn't want Edward to pull my secrets from me; I wanted to tell him when the time was right. I only wanted a day or two, I told myself, before my past life got in the way. I could carry the burden for that long. Besides, it was nice having him by my side like this. I could pretend that Isabeau had never existed—and almost believe it.

My mouth was dry. I turned to the water pitcher on the nightstand, and then remembered that I'd left the glass in bathroom earlier. "Be right back," I told Edward, swinging my legs off the side of the bed.

When I flipped the light switch on in the bathroom, the light was bright. I tried not to look at my reflection in the oval mirror. I didn't need to see the obvious worry in my eyes that he'd seen; I just wanted to ignore it and allow it to ease away. For now, it was our time to be together and forget about the world and everyone else in it—and I was going to try my best to make it happen.

I'd left the cut-crystal glass on the counter next to sink. As I reached for it, the arching light above the mirror cast prisms of light along the rim causing me to blink from the brightness. I paused for a moment, my head feeling strange and light, as if it were filled with cotton. From the corner of the bath, there was an echoing, childlike giggle; it sounded low, as if it had come from a radio or television set. But when I turned my head, nothing was there.

I knew that something was wrong. I looked up into the mirror, but everything in the small room was just blotches of peach and blue color. And most horrifying of all, I was fading into these blotches of color as if I ceased to be real…

I wet a towel and held it to my face. I felt so strange. I pulled the small vanity chair away from the wall and sat down. My movements brought about a tingling sensation along my skin. I gazed at my wristwatch, wanting to root myself in something normal and tangible. The minute hand had stopped turning; time seemed to be moving slowly, or not at all.

I took a deep breath, fighting the panic. Everything I looked at would at first be crisp, but then the edges would blur and then it turned into nothing more than a blob of smeared color.

The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach was back. The peach-colored bathroom tiles became blurry…and from behind me, where the door was only slightly ajar, I heard the child's laughter again…except this time there were two distinct peals of laughter filling my ears.

I was going to faint, that was my only explanation. My last thought, before the room started its off-kilter spin, was that I should call out for Edward.

But then the bathroom faded away, and I was running in a green rolling field…running after a young dark haired boy. It was then that I realized the laughter I'd just heard was ours.

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(I might later make a few edits to this chapter for flow. Thanks for reading. OTM)