"Scar."
"Hmm?" I moaned, not wanting to wake up.
I had to find out what happened to the little boy. I needed to see how it ended. I had the urge to draw the scene out, to sketch the way his eyes showed so many strong emotions. Pain. Grief. Anger. Determination.
My fingers ached to draw it out, but I was losing time. The image was already fading little by little. I was still so exhausted, the heat of the house somehow working to drain me, even if a part of me understood it was nothing but an illusion.
"Scarlet," Michael's soft voice whispered in my ear. I didn't respond, dealing with my internal battle to try and hold on to the once solid image of the boy that was fading little by little: the piece of work I would have drawn if I could just get up and let my fingers do their work with a pencil and paper in hand.
I felt something brush along my cheek, moving some strands of my neon orange hair that had been straightened before I went to bed. The hand moved to tuck the hair behind my ear. Then I heard Michael’s voice whisper, "Scarlet, you need to open your eyes."
I didn't want to. I'd keep ignoring him as long as I could. Maybe if I did, my mind would return to that moment, continuing the story where I had left off and reveal to me how the boy gained revenge for his lifeless mother. I heard Michael sigh before he whispered again. "Scarlet. Open your eyes."
I reluctantly opened them, having felt the magic lacing his words, which only made me pout as I struggled to keep them open. I lifted my head slightly, looking over my shoulder to see Michael's glowing eyes, their dark copper tinge giving away that he was using his gift to make me wake up.
"Why?" I whined, giving him a heartbroken look. Didn't he understand he was preventing me from finding out the end of the tragic story? It had to have a happy ending. Why was he preventing me from seeing it?
Michael gave me a sympathetic look before placing his hand on my shoulder, gesturing for me to turn over to face him. I slowly turned to my left side to look at him, my half-open eyes slowly assessing his bare chest and lowering to the black comforter that covered our lower halves.
I wore a black lingerie set to bed, not necessarily out of comfort, but because I was having a good time teasing the guys. They had been so stressed about everything that was going on that I felt a bit of teasing with some sexy lingerie would help to ease their nerves.
"Because you were having a bad dream,” he pointed out.
"No...I didn't see the end," I mumbled, my eyes already filling with tears. Michael frowned, turning over to put the night lamp on before he sat up. I took my time getting up as Michael grabbed my sketchbook and a pencil, offering both to me.
I reached out to them, wondering if I could even draw the image that was already half gone from my mind. Instead of debating about my capabilities, my left hand just moved to a clean page and I began to draw.
The sound of the pencil gliding across the page at a quick pace and our quiet inhales and exhales were the only sounds in the room. Michael patiently waited for me to draw out the dream I'd witnessed. Or had it been a vision?
My hand stopped when the image was completely gone from my mind and I frowned at the unfinished work in front of me. I was only able to sketch the left side of the boy, working extra hard to express the deep emotions in his still expression. The other half of him was nothing but little dots, fading away.
Flames raged on his left side, showing the desolate and almost hopeless situation he faced as a tear rolled down his cheek. The right side was filled with smoke, emphasizing what remained of the debris that would be left after the fire was finally put out.
I sighed, wanting to rip the sheet out, but Michael stopped me, his right hand holding onto my left hand. I lifted my tired eyes to meet his and I let my tears fall.
"Scar?" he whispered, looking confused by my display of emotion.
"The boy. He didn't get a happy ending. I...wanted him...to...but he didn't," I cried. Michael didn't ask any questions, just pulled me into his arms to let me cry for the little boy who lost his world in that fire. I didn't need any details to imagine the little boy’s smile as he ran through the house, laughing and playing with his toys as his mother, alive and well, laughed at how energetic her son was.
"Scar, love. It's going to be okay. Maybe one day he will have a happy ending. You just have to go back to sleep and find out," Michael suggested.
"You woke me up," I complained.
"I did, but only because you sounded like you were having a nightmare or vision. You've been doing this a lot lately when you sleep with Jaxson and I in the same bed," Michael revealed.
"Jax...son?" I asked, having completely forgotten we were at his place. I looked over my shoulder to see him asleep on his back next to us. His bare chest rose up and down as he slept. His left hand was behind his head while his right arm was reaching out to where I was sleeping before. I must have been snuggled up with him before Michael decided to wake me up.
"Hmmm." I was unsure what to say. Now that I saw Jaxson all alone on his side, I felt like it was my duty to make sure he wasn't lonely, even if it was in his sleep. Michael had a small grin when I turned my head back to him. He raised his hands to wipe away the tears that stained my cheeks.
He leaned in and kissed me. The tender action was quick, but helped comfort me in my distress. Logically, it sounded rather stupid that I was so upset over a dream: a scene of a boy, who might have been a part of my imagination. Or he could have been a real human being with a dark past, that had vowed to get justice for his mom, who was now one with the stars.
"You want to go back to sleep on Jaxson's side?" Michael asked.
"Jaxson's lonely I think...but I don't want you to be lonely either," I mumbled, my eyes beginning to close. I felt a kiss pressed to my shoulder, and when I looked up, I saw sleepy amber eyes meet mine.
"What has my baby in tears?" he whispered, his sad eyes staring at my tired ones, which were probably red from my tears.
"The boy," I whispered and yawned, lifting my hands to rub at my eyes. The boy’s image still lingered in my mind. I heard the slight movement on the bed, wondering if I’d woken Jaxson completely.
“What’s wrong?” Jaxson’s husky voice asked. Michael gently rubbed my back, before pulling me into his arms to rest while he talked to Jaxson.
"Vision,” he stated and Jaxson was silent. There was a long pause before Jaxson answered. "I see."
"Jaxson." Michael's stern voice intrigued me, unsure why he sounded mad all of a sudden.
"She needs to rest. We have another case in the morning," Jaxson mumbled.
Michael was silent and his heart began to beat faster, which was rather calming. "Michael, your heart sounds nice," I mumbled.
Michael sighed. "We're talking about this in the morning,” he told Jaxson, before returning his attention to me. "And thank you, Scarlet."
"Fine," Jaxson muttered, sounding a little irritated, but didn't say anything more.
I took that moment to lift my head up to look at Jaxson. "We have an assignment in the morning?" I asked.
He sighed, nodding his head. "After you fell asleep, we got a call from Kendrick. We have another case to look into at nine. Try to go back to sleep,” he explained, before leaning in and kissing me gently on the lips.
I noticed the hesitation in the exchange, which left me confused and wanting to correct it. I kissed him back, hoping the directness of my action would help, even if I didn't understand exactly what he was feeling hesitant about.
He moaned, immediately responding to my move. Soon our lips were fighting for dominance while his hand glided through my hair.
"So much for waking up early," Michael sighed. I moaned when his lips pressed against my shoulder, sending shivers of excitement through me. I was so tired, yet I didn't want to stop, my body craving some dual action. We'd been so caught up in everything that we'd barely had any private time lately.
Even when we had, it was either interrupted by another case or we all were just too exhausted from the chaotic day we’d just had. It wasn't long till Jaxson's lips were trailing down my back while Michael was kissing me passionately.
"Early morning," Jaxson reminded.
Michael broke the heated kiss and rolled his eyes. "Says the guy who started it in the first place."
"I like cuddling too. That's nice." I yawned. They both smiled and helped me lay back down before coming to rest next to me. Michael's body pressed against my backside and Jaxson lay facing me. It wasn't long before Michael was fast asleep, his arm securely around my waist and his breathing slow and even.
I slowly opened my eyes to see Jaxson staring at me, his expression made him look deep in thought. "What's wrong?" I mumbled. He gave me a small smile, blinking out of his concentrated daze. He shook his head from side to side.
"Nothing, Scar baby. Go to sleep. Need you to be badass tomorrow for our next case,” he teased, lifting his hand to stroke my cheek. "And don't short circuit anything, please."
"That wasn't my fault," I mumbled.
"Okay. No getting stuck in a mall full of crazy shifters who want to kill you, either,” he added and I let out a quiet giggle.
"That wasn't my fault either. They didn't like my hair," I reminded.
"Ah, true. Well, I love your hair. It fits you perfectly,” he whispered, moving slightly to kiss me. This kiss held passion and certainty. It made my worries fade and the tension leave my shoulders. I could sleep now knowing Michael and him were both okay.
"You're okay...right?" I asked when our lips parted. He nodded with a smile, moving closer so I could snuggle right against him.
He kissed my forehead before relaxing. "I'm fine, Scar. Go to sleep,” he whispered.
I didn't reply, my mind already drifting off. I welcomed the darkness, hoping I'd get to see what happened next to the boy, whose glowing mismatched eyes showed how determined he was to claim his happy ending.
I just prayed to the Starlight gods that he got it.