6
598 Words
The numbers glowed in the dark of my unfamiliar bedroom, casting eerie shadows across the unfamiliar walls. I had been staring at them for what felt like hours, my mind racing with the memory of Nikolai's stupidly perfect abs and my own mortifying reaction.
Ugh. Stupid brothers. Stupid house. Stupid, stupid Junie.
I rolled onto my side, and my oversized sleep shirt twisted around my waist. The air was too warm, the sheets were too tangled, and my thoughts were too loud.
Knock.
I froze.
Knock. Knock.
The sound was soft, barely there, but in the silence of the night, it might as well have been a gunshot. My heart leapt into my throat as I sat bolt upright, and my wild curls tumbled over my shoulders.
Who the hell knocks at this hour?
Swallowing hard, I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand and tiptoed to the door. My bare feet were silent against the cold hardwood. My hand hovered over the knob, trembling slightly.
Maybe it was just the house settling, I thought. Or the wind. Or
Knock.
I yanked the door open before I could chicken out.
And I found nothing.
The hallway was empty, bathed in the pale blue glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. No smirking brothers. No creepy stalkers. Just
Huh?
A delicate clink drew my attention downward. There, on the floor just outside my door, sat a small tray.
A cup of tea, with steam still curling gently from its surface, rested atop it. It was accompanied by a single sugar cookie shaped like a crescent moon. The scent of chamomile and honey drifted up, warm and comforting.
My breath caught.
What the f**k?
I knelt down, and my fingers brushed the cup. It was the perfect temperature, hot enough to soothe but not scald. The cookie was still slightly warm, too, as if it had just come out of the oven.
Who would even
A rustle.
My head snapped up just in time to catch a glimpse of a broad back disappearing around the corner at the end of the hall. Tall. Silent. Familiar.
Rune.
My pulse stuttered.
He did not turn. He did not speak. He vanished into the shadows, leaving behind nothing but the tea, the cookie, and a thousand unspoken questions.
I bit my lip and stared down at the tray. Why? Why tea? Why now? Why me? And most importantly, how the hell did he know I could not sleep?
Later That Morning
The tray sat on my nightstand, empty except for a few stray crumbs from the cookie. I had tried to stay awake to catch him in the act if he came back, but the tea had been effective, and I had slept like a baby in a cot.
Now sunlight streamed through my large stained glass window, and the house was alive with the usual chaos: shouting, laughter, and the clatter of dishes from downstairs.
I traced the rim of the empty cup with my finger, and my thoughts were a tangled mess. Was this a one-time thing? Some weird brotherly hazing ritual? Or something else?
A knock at my door, firmer this time, jolted me from my thoughts.
"Junie! Breakfast is ready, and if you don't get down here, Knox is going to eat all the pancakes!" Callie's voice carried through the woods, bright and cheerful.
"Coming!" I called back, setting the cup down with a soft clink.
But as I headed for the door, I could not resist one last glance at the tray.
Tonight, I decided, I am staying awake.
- Writer
