JD couldn't sleep.
The nightmares had returned.
He was falling—endlessly, weightlessly—through an abyss with no end, no place to land, no ground to steady him. It was a dream he'd had for years, a manifestation of sothing he never spoke aloud.
He didn't belong anywhere.
But this was the first ti he'd had the dream after staying in Joanne's ho.
With a sharp gasp, he jolted awake, his body damp with sweat. His pulse thundered in his ears as he pushed himself upright, dragging a hand down his face. He exhaled slowly, then glanced at the clock.
12:30 AM.
He got up and opened the window, letting the cool night air wash over him. But it wasn't enough. He needed sothing stronger—sothing to quiet his mind.
A beer, maybe.
Slipping out of the room, he made his way downstairs. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of the wall clock.
He wasn't at all surprised to see Fluffy sprawled on the living room rug. The dog had a perfectly good bed, but for whatever reason, he preferred the floor. JD's lips quirked at the sight, his fingers twitching with the instinct to ruffle the dog's fur.
But before he could, sothing caught his eye—a dark shape on the couch.
Not sothing.
Soone.
Joanne.
She lay curled up, her fra barely covered by the thin throw blanket draped over her. The soft light from the porch spilled through the window, casting a golden glow along the smooth lines of her legs. He hadn't noticed before, but she had a beautiful pair of legs—long, toned, effortlessly elegant even in sleep.
His throat tightened.
"Aren't you cold?" he murmured, reaching for the throw. As he pulled it over her legs, he shook his head. "You sure make hot..." he muttered under his breath, smirking at the absurdity of his own thoughts.
She didn't stir.
JD crouched beside her, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of her breath.
"Aren't you too trusting of , Jo?" he asked softly.
Nothing.
His gaze swept over her, catching the faint flush on her cheeks, the way her lips parted slightly in sleep. A scent of whiskey lingered around her, warm and intoxicating.
His smirk deepened.
"You even got drunk and passed out in the middle of the house," he mused, shaking his head.
Still, she didn't wake.
Clenching his jaw, he leaned closer, drawn in despite himself. He didn't know what he was doing, creeping around her like this, but his body moved on its own. His hand lifted, fingers hovering just above her face.
Before he knew it, he was reaching out—his fingertips re inches from her lips.
Thump. Thump.
His heartbeat thundered against his ribs.
Just as the tip of his finger was about to graze her, she stirred.
Her brows furrowed, her lips trembled, and her nose twitched slightly, as if she were caught in a dream of her own.
JD stilled, his breath shallow.
"Are you having a bad dream too, Jo?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Slowly, gently, he traced his finger over the crease in her brow, smoothing away the tension.
Then he just... stayed.
Watching her.
Listening to the quiet rhythm of her breath.
JD's breath hitched.
For the first ti in years, his nightmares weren't the only thing keeping him awake.
I might have feelings for her.
The thought struck him like lightning in the dead of the night, in that dimly lit room, while distant dogs barked into the silence. It sent a tremor through his chest, unfamiliar and unwelco.
What the hell was he supposed to do with that?
With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up and trudged back to his room. Sleep felt impossible, so he perched by the windowsill instead, his gaze drifting over the vast stretch of land beyond the house. His eyes landed on the rows of oak trees standing like silent sentinels in the night.
Sothing felt... off.
Was it just the restlessness in his head? Or was there sothing out there, beyond the trees, lurking in the darkness?
A shadow. A presence.
He stared hard into the blackness until his eyes ached.
A soft creak from the hallway pulled him back.
He heard her bedroom door easing open, then closing with a quiet click.
She must have finally gone to bed.
The heaviness in his chest deepened.
2 AM.
With reluctance, JD lay back down.
He drifted into sleep, but it wasn't peaceful. The nightmares ca again.
This ti, it wasn't just falling.
Sothing heavy—an anvil of dread—pressed down on his chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Darkness surrounded him, thick and suffocating.
Then—
A sound.
Like bubbles breaking the surface of water.
A flicker of light, just enough to pierce the void.
And then he saw it.
A child. A small, frail body with a head full of red hair, sinking beneath the murky surface of a pond.
No... not sinking.
Being forced under.
A towering figure lood above, pressing the child deeper into the water. The figure was faceless, just a hulking mass of darkness, its presence dripping with malice.
JD wanted to move. To scream. To stop it. But he couldn't. Behind them, the oak trees stood in a perfect line—watching, waiting, judging.
No. No!
He tried to yell.
But the scream never left his lips.
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