"Do nothing in haste, look well to each step, and from the beginning think what may be the end."- Scrambles Amongst The Alps (1871)

I found myself just sitting there, just staring at this... intruder. A strange man was lying next to me, in my bed, half naked... a-and, I was just, staring. I could feel the rush of unease still pumping through my veins, my arms twitching and jittering under the pressure. Pulling in a slow inhale of breath, I felt my lip quivering, knowing well aware I was no where close to coming down from my high.

My breath quickly followed in release, unable to hold it in, feeling nausea pooling in my stomach. I bit down on the cheek, holding my breath as he began to stir. 

I moved one of my hands back, followed by the other, slowly slipping my way from under the blanket. 

'Just a little more...' I thought, continuing my crawl to the edge.

I was almost off the bed, one of my hands positioned on the very edge, the other one moving to join it in a final pull. The invader in my bed mumbled as he rolled to his back, inching the blanket farther down, revealing a little more than bargained. At this, my hand instinctively lurched back, missing the edge of the bed, and sent me toppling off. I landed on the wood floor with a thud.

"Ow, god that hurts..." I said aloud.

I quickly covered my mouth, the adrenaline once again releasing into my system; It was if I could feel the burn in my chest and my eyes dilate. The sound of my blood pounding in my ears was deafening, but everything paused as I heard the covers move once more, a body sitting up against the sunlight of the window above the bed.

He rubbed his eyes, adjusting like I had to the prevalent assault of bright. With a few blinks of his eyes, he flashed a lopsided smile as he leaned onto his side, propping his head up on his arm.

My hand stayed clenched over my mouth, afraid to move it in some child like fear that he would steal my breath if I allowed him to. My body twitched, ready to run,  as he crawled his free hand toward me, scratching the fabric under his ill managed fingernails.

"Alex," his voice rolled out with a low grumble.

I hate to admit it, but I became light headed at his voice, the way he said my name. I hate to admit, but I have to... I actually like it. My mind went else where as I unclasped my hand from my mouth and knelt up to the edge of the bed, inches away from his beckoning hand. Whether is was common sense, or a reflex, my hand balled up into a fist, pressing my nails into the palm. It hurt, but it broke me from whatever hold he had on me.

I abruptly stood and backed away, finding the nearest object and placing it in front of me, as if to defend myself. His smile grew in amusement as I looked down to what I had held: just a simple pencil. I tottered between accepting defeat and standing my ground, choosing the latter ultimately.

Seeing I would not break, he shuffled the sheets off him and took seat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs as to emphasize with my embarrassment.

"Come now," he purred, reaching his hand out to me, "why must you be so... cold?"

He released a small laugh, sounding more maniacal than I believe he intended. I could feel my arms start to fall as I got caught up in a daze once more. I clenched my eyes shut, wishing for my eyes to open to an empty room, greeted by just the white ceiling of my bedroom.

 I breathed in, '1....2....3....4...'

I breathed out, '7...8...9....'

'10'

Realizing the last number wasn't me who said, or rather, thought it, I fluttered my eyes open. I was assaulted by the eyes of another, deep and dark, like there was no end. Finding myself back against a wall, I had no where to run as he pressed his arms on the walls around me.

"Alex," he said, voice capturing me once more, "what's wrong?"

'Cat got your tongue?'

His voice bounced around inside my mind, his breath caught at the side of my face, nipping my ear. I felt absolutely helpless, but at the same time, enraptured.

I thought I was safe inside my own mind, turns out I was lying to myself the whole time.