Better

Alice’s eyes flashed open when she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. She turned over, glancing up through her squinting eyes. In the darkness, she could just barely see the familiar figure standing next to her bed. She reached to the bedside lamp and clicked it on. “Alen,” she said slowly, sitting up. She rubbed her tired eyes that were crusted together with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, the light hitting his face. His blue eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess. He wore his usual button-up shirt, and slacks. But the shirt was buttoned wrong, and had brown stains covered all over it — as if he had rubbed it in dirt. “I was worried,” he replied. He sat on the edge of her bed, craning his head in her direction. “I thought you were in danger.” There was thick emotion in his voice, but his face was deadpan.

Alice leaned over to touch his shoulder gently. “Alen, you know better than anyone how safe I am here.”

“But, Alice…” He looked straight at her, his eyes pleading. “You don’t understand. I thought…I thought you were in danger. Someone was going to hurt you.” He turned his back to her. She pulled herself out of the bed and slide next to him with worried eyes.

“Who was going to hurt me, Alen?” She asked.

“I was,” he answered. She tilted her head. When he saw her confused look, he continued, “In my dream, I hurt you, Alice. I had to make sure, I– I had to see if you were okay.”

“That was just a dream,” Alice said quietly. She wrapped her arm around him, pressing her face to his shoulder. He smelled like soap…and a hint of cigarettes. He had been smoking again.

“I hurt you, Alice. Hurt you.” He slouched over, shaking his head. Alice pulled away. “I just had to make sure…”

“I understand,” she told him. “You don’t need to explain anymore.”

He let out a painful breath. “It was so horrible, Alice. Your blood…it was everywhere. And I did it.” His head fell to his hands, his shoulders were shaking.

She sat next to him in silence for a moment, before telling him more words of comfort. “Alen, I know you could never hurt me. It was only a dream.”

He looked up at her from his fingers. “You don’t know that for certain,” he said.

“Yes, I do,” she argued. “You would never hurt me.” He said nothing at this. Alice squeezed his shoulder, deciding to get up for a glass of water. Somehow, she had gotten extremely thirsty.

“Do you want anything to drink?” She asked him. He didn’t answer. “Alen?”

He brought his eyes to her’s. “Any hard alcohol?”

She sighed. “You know I don’t drink that. Besides,” she paused. He looked away. “Aren’t you supposed to be drinking only non-alcoholic beverages?” She gave him a stern look.

“I gave into that a long time ago, Alice. You should’ve known that by now.” She did. But still, she had hoped he would’ve gone back to limiting of alcohol.

“That included the cigarettes too?” She turned towards the door. He didn’t speak for a moment. “I could smell it on you.”

“A habit is a habit,” was all he said.

“But you’re better than that, Alen,” she called to him as she walked into the other room. And then to herself, “I’m better than that…”