I am not a stranger to waiting.

I have had to wait for a lot of things to happen in my beforelife.

I had to wait for my mom to come out of her room countless times.

I had to wait for my father to come back home. He never did.

I had to wait for friends, that treated me a very different way outside of school, to acknowledge or actually smile at me when inside the walls of Blanesville High.

I had to wait for just the right time to tell my girl I loved her. Still, after all these years, I do not feel I got the timing right.

Now, here I am, waiting for Lenny to wake up.

Can someone have a smile on their face for almost nine hours straight? Because I think I have.

I have floated past her while she was sleeping before. I have floated past everyone in this house while they were sleeping. It brought me comfort when I missed being able to sleep, dream, when I missed being able to speak to others, listen, when I missed being heard, when I missed being seen, loved.

While they were sleeping, I was able to hear them, tell them things in secret and love them. That was enough for me.

Right now, though, a bug has bitten me. My patience has gotten the better of me. These past nine hours have felt like nine years. No, ninety years.

I have moved her chair and placed it right next to her bed, as if she were a patient in the hospital and I am waiting for her to arise from a coma. I am being ridiculous. I know this.

When it comes to loving someone, though, just about anything anyone does can be seen as ridiculous. Sad, really, but mostly ridiculous.

It frustrates me, that after all this time, I can not sit here patiently and wait for her to wake up. I swore to myself, up and down, I would never feel this way about another person again--yet here I am. Waiting and cursing every minute that passes.

She is stirring now. My smile turns to a frown. She was only changing positions again. She brought her hand, which she had stuffed underneath her pillow, up onto her forehead. Her fingers are dangling there, the tips touching her messy nest of dark hair.

Her natural lashes are thick, long and dark. It never bothered me that Lenny likes to wear makeup, and I know she enjoys putting it on and collecting it like a mad woman, but she does not need a single thing to accentuate her beauty. Her presence alone does enough to accentuate that.

I shift in the chair, not to get comfortable--I hardly ever feel comfortable--but like I have confusingly started to do ever since we talked last night, I am picking up little idiosyncrasies from my past. My past as a bundle of living and breathing, capable of doing anything, flesh and blood.

I would fidget a heck of a lot whenever I was anxious. Impatient. Nervous. Upset. Annoyed. Excited. Hopelessly in love.

Again, I take a long inhale and a long exhale. I do not need to but I do it anyway.

She better wake up before I have a mind to yank her curtains open and flicker her lights on and off.

I wring my fingers together and wait.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

I hear footsteps behind me, on the porch. I turn around in my seat to look. It is Jude and Krista.

Her hair is being picked up by the wind and tossed about. Pink, the lightest shade of violet, blue and cloud-like blonde as if she were from a fairy tale I read as a child.

I have heard Lenny say that Krista reminds her of a mermaid and I can see why. Her eyes are like pools of seaweed and stormy ocean and her features are so soft and feminine she resembles someone not of this world. I am certain that makes it all the more harder for Jude to let her go.

Jude is smoking a cigarette. Its smoke is wandering aimlessly above their heads, in the wind. Getting lost in the air, lost in the world until it disappears.

He may not know this about himself, but I do. He has so much potential within himself. I saw it instantly the first time I laid my eyes upon him. His dark eyes are handsome, yes, but also intense and adamant. He has the type of eyes that could unearth and unlock mysteries. There is a depth to them that is easily overlooked because he is so attractive.

I do not see him as a broken boy, though he is playing that part rather well now. I see him as a knight returning from battle.

Though he is hurt, he feels no pain, not physically at least. His mind has been pulled through dirt, rock and thorns, but his heart is clean and ready to serve.

His soul, however, is a lot like that cigarette smoke above his head. Losing its shape until it is nothing.

I squint my eyes and lean forward. I do not want to leave Lenny's side. I try to hear what they are saying to each other. She stands up again and he reaches for her hand. He tries to lace his fingers within hers without any luck. She then puts her hand on his face, says something, and then walks away. After she leaves the porch, he bows his head down and I can see his shoulders tremble a little.

I do not know how, but somehow, with the land and the sea at play between them, that resolute, tired knight and that slippery mermaid must find a way to be together. I have never seen two souls more destined for each other than Jude and Krista.

Since I am no longer human, I really do not know if I have much of a soul left. Whether or not I still have a mind is questionable. My heart no longer beats. I cannot hear it beating. Could it be possible I am really feeling what I am feeling or am I simply reenacting those feelings I had in my beforelife?

When I look at Lenny, though, when I spoke with her especially, it made me feel like I was alive again. I want to feel that way again. Alive.

I am still watching Jude. He is kneading his neck with his hand and swinging back and forth now.

I almost do not hear her.

"Daniel," she mutters, her voice thick with sleep, "Daniel, are you there?"

My heart, if I still have one, catches in my throat, not expecting to hear her say my name upon waking.

"Yes, Lenny. I am here."

I rush to her side. Only her breathing is between us.

"Daniel?" she asks again, a tiny frown forming on her lips and an even larger one forming on mine.

"Lenny, can't you hear me? I am right here."

"Daniel!"

She does not yell out, it's more of a loud whisper. I do not blame her. How would she even want to explain to anyone that she was talking with a ghost.

She sits up in bed and I am right in front of her, looking into her amber eyes flecked with tiny forests. Those eyes that mystify me. I detect no recognition in them, though. She cannot see me.

She cannot hear me.

What has happened?

Was this all a dream?

No. She knows my name. She knows who I am---

"Daniel! This isn't funny! Where are you?"

There is nothing I can do. I sit on her bed and wait.

"Ugh!"

Her impatience gets the best of her and she fumbles out of her bed. I remain where I am. I have to stop a small laugh from escaping my lips.

Her hair is matted on one side and sticking up a little on the other. Some pink pillow marks line an area across the bottom of her cheek and jawline. Just enough light is filtering through the sides of her curtains so I can see her in the morning. Well, in the afternoon.

Getting to see the one you love, without them knowing that you can, does have an element of joy about it. I can feel my cheeks flush at the sight of her.

She scratches her lower back and pulls at the collar of her t-shirt. Groggily, she paces before her desk and stops in front of her small diamond-shaped mirror. She sees what I see and she panics. She goes to her dresser and picks up her hairbrush and pulls at the tangles in her hair. She  sets the brush down and frowns again.

She looks so angry. I do not think I have ever seen her this angry before. She does not wear it like true anger, though. It looks more like fluttering exasperation.

She is...luminous. Not even anger can take away from her light.

"Where are you hiding? Come out! Daniel?"

She looks to her left and then to her right and then up at the ceiling, all around her. Her shoulders lift as she deeply inhales and then she puts her hands out in front of her, palms facing upward. She then closes her eyes.

At this point, I am starting to feel very amused. I wait. I am happy to.

"Daniel," she utters firmly, one of her eyes opening for a beat and then shutting, "I command you to show yourself to me."

She opens her eyes, and when I do not appear before her, she stomps a bare foot on the floor below her. The foot that somehow lost its sock while she was sleeping.

I hastily go over to the other side of her bed and pick up the chair. That catches her eye.

"Ooh, thank goodness!" Her hand swiftly goes to her chest. "You're still here!"

I carry the chair with me over to her desk and open her laptop. I turn it on and set the chair down. As if she can read my mind, she sits in the chair, pulls it up to her desk, opens up a Word document and places her hands in her lap.

I type quickly.

Hello.

"Hi." I am right next to her, of course, and I can see her blush.

"What have you been up to?"

Waiting for you to wake up.

"Sorry." She lowers her head into her hands and shakes it.

It was not so bad. I am a patient person. I am a patient ghost.

Then she asks what both of us are wondering.

"Daniel, why can't I see you or hear you anymore?"

She asks as if I should know the answer, but I do not.

I wish I knew why.

Her shoulders slump. "I was really looking forward to seeing you today."

I am sorry. I really, really am.

"It's okay. It's not your fault." She bites her lip and stands up. She starts to pace before her desk like she did before. "There has to be a reason. A reason why I could see and hear you last night--but today I can't." She exhales loudly and waves her hands in the air, defeated. "Why can't I see you today?"

She asks again, "Why can't I see you today?"

She really is something to look at whenever she is pulling at every end of her brain trying to figure something out. Her breath quickens a little and her eyes look around her, at nothing in particular really.

"I can't see you today. I can't see you today." She claps her hands and her face is beaming. "Ha ha! That must be it!"

???

"Oh! Sorry. Um, I think I've figured it out. I can't see you today because it's day time, not night time. It's the only thing I can think of. The only difference between now and then. What do you think?"

I really love her.

I think you're onto something, Lenny.

She smiles and sits back down in the chair, folding her arms over her chest, very proud of herself.

"We'll just have to wait until sunset, Daniel, to test my theory."

We can still communicate until then, though, right?

"Of course." She smiles. It appears she did not expect me to ask that.

You should go get something to eat and drink. Your uncle and Juliette made breakfast burritos this morning. They're still at the grocery store. Krista has already left. Jude must be in his room now.

"Oh, thank you."

She gets up and stretches. I stand up with her. As she is bringing down her arms to her side, I see a lone eyelash resting on her cheek. I want nothing more than to reach out and touch it.

She looks down at her laptop screen.

Go eat. I'll be around.

She giggles and  looks around her.

"Sunset, then?"

Sunset :)

I have never looked forward to the sun setting in my entire before or afterlife more. 

💚 💚 💚

A/N:

I am blown away. It's before midnight right now and I may actually get this chapter posted before the clock strikes twelve. Haha, y'all know that's not the usual for me.

;)

I have dedicated this chapter to my dear friend and fellow writer, Quill. She once told me that Daniel's chapters are her favorite and I sincerely hope she'll enjoy this one. Thanks for being you, Q.

❤️

I have attached Petit Biscuit's "Sunset Lover"---no explanation is needed, I'm sure. Did you know he was only 16 when this song was first released? Teens are doing amazing things! So can you!

Vote and comment if you wish---above all, thank you for reading.

xo,
Leanne