Read Online To Summon Nightmares by J.K. Pendragon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J.K. Pendragon
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I've ever imposed on and made feed me dinner."
"I imagine so," laughed Niall. "So, if you just give me a moment to clear out the spare bedroom after this, you can sleep in there."
"That'd be great," said Cohen. "Really, thanks again."
"It's no problem," Niall reassured him. "I like guests."
*~*~*
Cohen waited until Niall had said goodnight and disappeared into his bedroom before sneaking into the toilet. It was small, with a yellowed tub and sink, and was stocked with only the most basic necessities; a comb, razor, soap and some cheap shampoo. It was lucky that Cohen had packed along all of his toiletries. He had far too many, but he had convinced himself that giving up his femininity did not have to mean giving up nice soap.
He turned to undress in front of the mirror, only then to notice that it had been covered with an opaque white sheet. Cohen stared at it for a moment, wondering if the mirror under it was broken. It seemed an incredibly strange thing to do, to cover a mirror, but he supposed he was staying in a house with strings of magical plants hung everywhere (even over the toilet). He shivered. Only a covered mirror. It was strange that it made him feel so odd.
His fingers brushed the soft cloth as he reached forward to pull it aside. The glass was shiny and unbroken. His own face stared back at him, his eyes a little wider than normal, and his dark hair unimaginably frizzy. His reflection narrowed his eyes at him, pinching his mouth to the side and wrinkling his nose. "You look terrible," he told himself under his breath. "Stop freaking out and get in the shower."
He tugged his clothes off and then, paranoid, checked to make sure the door was locked one more time before struggling to pull his binder over his head. He crossed his arms in front of himself automatically, suddenly glad that the mirror was covered, and fingered the raw callouses under his armpits. He'd gained a bit of weight lately, and the binder was too tight on him, but he couldn't bring himself to buy a bigger size.
Well, maybe he'd just switch to eating tofu and peppers like Niall. It seemed to work wonders on him.
He sighed, distancing himself from his body as well as he could and stepped into the tub, pulling the plastic curtain shut and turning the water on. It was blissfully warm. He hadn't realised how chilled he'd been from the rain and wet.
Not entirely comfortable in a strange shower, he washed and towelled off as fast as possible before changing into his pyjamas. Then, with his things clutched as tightly as possible to his chest, he raced to the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind him and jumping into the bed. He left the binder on the floor next to the bed so that he could put it on first thing in the morning.
He was drifting off before he remembered that he hadn't even plugged his phone in for the night. Not that it really mattered, but he couldn't remember the last time he had gone to sleep without it next to him. Perhaps he wasn't quite as addicted as he'd thought though, because he had no trouble falling deep into the soft scratchiness of the bed, the smell of dust and dried plants strangely comforting, and the sound of the rain the same as it always had been, lulling him into oblivion.
*~*~*
He awoke from his dreams reluctantly. He'd been dreaming of relief, of a world where everything was under his control. It was unusual for him to have such dreams, and he didn't want to wake. But the sound of a loud knock at the door, and then the door slamming and harsh voices dragged him upwards. He opened his eyes and sat up, listening to make sense of the noises.
The covers fell from his chest and he clutched his arms to himself. Something was wrong. He threw himself out of bed, reaching down to scoop up his binder and pulling his pyjama shirt off in the same motion. The morning chill bit at his bare skin as he tugged his clothes on and rushed out into the kitchen.
"Cohen." Niall was standing in the middle of his kitchen,
"I imagine so," laughed Niall. "So, if you just give me a moment to clear out the spare bedroom after this, you can sleep in there."
"That'd be great," said Cohen. "Really, thanks again."
"It's no problem," Niall reassured him. "I like guests."
*~*~*
Cohen waited until Niall had said goodnight and disappeared into his bedroom before sneaking into the toilet. It was small, with a yellowed tub and sink, and was stocked with only the most basic necessities; a comb, razor, soap and some cheap shampoo. It was lucky that Cohen had packed along all of his toiletries. He had far too many, but he had convinced himself that giving up his femininity did not have to mean giving up nice soap.
He turned to undress in front of the mirror, only then to notice that it had been covered with an opaque white sheet. Cohen stared at it for a moment, wondering if the mirror under it was broken. It seemed an incredibly strange thing to do, to cover a mirror, but he supposed he was staying in a house with strings of magical plants hung everywhere (even over the toilet). He shivered. Only a covered mirror. It was strange that it made him feel so odd.
His fingers brushed the soft cloth as he reached forward to pull it aside. The glass was shiny and unbroken. His own face stared back at him, his eyes a little wider than normal, and his dark hair unimaginably frizzy. His reflection narrowed his eyes at him, pinching his mouth to the side and wrinkling his nose. "You look terrible," he told himself under his breath. "Stop freaking out and get in the shower."
He tugged his clothes off and then, paranoid, checked to make sure the door was locked one more time before struggling to pull his binder over his head. He crossed his arms in front of himself automatically, suddenly glad that the mirror was covered, and fingered the raw callouses under his armpits. He'd gained a bit of weight lately, and the binder was too tight on him, but he couldn't bring himself to buy a bigger size.
Well, maybe he'd just switch to eating tofu and peppers like Niall. It seemed to work wonders on him.
He sighed, distancing himself from his body as well as he could and stepped into the tub, pulling the plastic curtain shut and turning the water on. It was blissfully warm. He hadn't realised how chilled he'd been from the rain and wet.
Not entirely comfortable in a strange shower, he washed and towelled off as fast as possible before changing into his pyjamas. Then, with his things clutched as tightly as possible to his chest, he raced to the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind him and jumping into the bed. He left the binder on the floor next to the bed so that he could put it on first thing in the morning.
He was drifting off before he remembered that he hadn't even plugged his phone in for the night. Not that it really mattered, but he couldn't remember the last time he had gone to sleep without it next to him. Perhaps he wasn't quite as addicted as he'd thought though, because he had no trouble falling deep into the soft scratchiness of the bed, the smell of dust and dried plants strangely comforting, and the sound of the rain the same as it always had been, lulling him into oblivion.
*~*~*
He awoke from his dreams reluctantly. He'd been dreaming of relief, of a world where everything was under his control. It was unusual for him to have such dreams, and he didn't want to wake. But the sound of a loud knock at the door, and then the door slamming and harsh voices dragged him upwards. He opened his eyes and sat up, listening to make sense of the noises.
The covers fell from his chest and he clutched his arms to himself. Something was wrong. He threw himself out of bed, reaching down to scoop up his binder and pulling his pyjama shirt off in the same motion. The morning chill bit at his bare skin as he tugged his clothes on and rushed out into the kitchen.
"Cohen." Niall was standing in the middle of his kitchen,
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