Free Haunted by Amber Lynn Natusch

ones I heard.
    Guess I'm really not getting any sleep tonight.
    I remembered yet again that Peyta was sleeping on the couch and tried to get out of my down-filled cocoon to remind Cooper and company to try to keep the volume down to a dull roar. Before I could untangle myself from the comforter, my bedroom door opened and light from the hall spilled in around the figure standing in the threshold. I stared at the reflection in the window ahead of me. It was the second time that night I'd seen him illuminated that way. I wasn't sure what to do, so I opted for nothing at all.
    There was a moment or two of total hesitation on both sides – no movement, no speaking. It was starting to make me uncomfortable and nervously itchy, my skin crawling under the growing silence.
    Thank God he finally broke it.
    “I'm not leaving,” Sean said softly.
    The way he said it was less “I'm not leaving this room” and more “I'm not leaving you”. I preferred the latter and was praying that for once I'd inferred something correctly.
    I turned to face him. He'd made no advance into the room, but rather stood statuesque in my doorway like shadowy framed art.
    “I just wanted you to know that. I'll let you get some sleep now,” he said, turning to leave.
    I decided to blurt out the first thing that came into my head in response.
    “Why were you sitting outside?” I asked, wishing immediately that I hadn't.
    “I was waiting for Cooper. I figured it was highly unlikely that you were in the admitting mood, so I waited for him to get home and followed him up. He was in no shape to argue.”
    “No, he usually isn't,” I muttered under my breath. “Sean, listen. I need to say something, too.”
    “Can I come in?” he asked. “Or should we continue this conversation with your door open and Cooper looming over my shoulder?”
    He looked backwards into the hall and I heard feet shuffle then Cooper's door slam. Apparently he thought there was going to be some fireworks and didn't want to miss them. I sighed out of sheer frustration.
    “Yes. Come on in, but don't slam the door. Poor Peyta is trying to sleep, though trying seems to be the operative word.” I jumped up from the chair when he turned on the light, remembering the state of my room. “Um, sorry. I had to leave in a hurry tonight. I was going to clean it tomorrow morning,” I said, mildly embarrassed. “I wasn't really expecting company.”
    He smiled weakly.
    “I’m pretty sure I've seen your place in states far worse than this one,” he replied, taking in the view.
    I flinched at his choice of phrasing. The memory of the veritable crime scene I’d created in my apartment when Eric attacked both Cooper and I flashed through my mind. Sean stepped towards me with an outstretched hand, only to stop himself a couple feet from me and drop his arm.
    “I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean it like that,” he explained, looking mournful. It was my turn to return his weak smile.
    “I know you didn't,” I replied, believing that was the truth. “It's still raw, you know? Like I haven't had enough time to scrub certain things from my mind.”
    I was as uncomfortable as he was at that moment, so I started to nervously clean to distract myself. Thankfully there was more than enough to keep me busy for a long time.
    “So what did you want to say?” he asked, hovering between the bed and the closet door. I was starting to think he was purposely putting himself in my path so I would be forced to look at him.
    No dice.
    “I'm sorry I overreacted tonight,” I said, suddenly fascinated with the sock drawer that stood ajar.
    “Hmm…I wasn't expecting that,” he replied. “You shouldn't be. You were right. Everything you said was true.”
    It was my turn to be surprised. I literally dropped the pile of clothing I'd just amassed in my arms, and stared agape at him. He tried to stifle a little chuckle.
    “I came back to the States for one reason only – to explain things to