Page 31 of Delirium

All the creatures that slept in the day, or hid away from the heat of the sun, started to live their lives beneath the glow of the moon. Wasn’t that the truest kind of existence?

Closing my eyes, I listened to the sad calls of the frogs, and the strange songs of the nocturnal birds. Eventually, I had to go find food for dinner. But right now, I was content justbeing.

Scarlett saw me for who I was. She didn’t mind all my flaws and imperfections. She didn’t mind the way I calculated people and moves, needing to understand them before anything else.

She trusted me—me, of all people—enough to teach her the true meaning of pleasure.

And goddamn, the way she fell apart in my hands…I wanted to replay that in my head on a loop for the rest of my life. Her soft sighs and moans enchanted me more than the night symphony that surrounded me, and the way she cried my name—exhilarating.

I wanted more. I needed more.More terrified me.

I still wanted to know why she was on this boat. I didn’t buy her flimsy excuse, something to chase me off the real trail. If it was all she wanted to offer me right now, then I’d let her. She’d tell me the truth when she was ready.

I was sure of it.

Eyes closed, I could’ve drifted off for minutes or hours. It could’ve been weeks. My imagination was filled with thoughts of Scarlett and Scarlett alone. I knew she was attracted to Nash. I could see it in every interaction they had. Hell, you could practically taste it in the air.

But there was something to be said for being the person she trusted first to make her shatter. A tiny smattering of pride spread across my chest, knowing I’d had something neither of the other passengers had.

Despite my admittedly crude question of James on day one, Scarlett wasn’t a prize, or something to be competed for, something to be won. But I’d won just the same.

I swatted away one of the mosquitos that never seemed to leave us alone, finally dragging my eyes open when my stomach growled angrily.

“Fine, I hear you!” I rolled out of bed and slipped out my door. Before I headed downstairs to the galley, I stopped at Scarlett’s door, knocking lightly. I figured the least I could do was see if she needed any food while I was headed down there anyway.

There was no response, although to be fair, from the height of the moon, it was later than I expected. If she was saner than I was, she’d be sleeping already. I couldn’t be certain of my own sanity at this point, though.

I smiled, remembering the way she’d touched my face so lightly, the quiet way she took what she needed from me.

As if there was awrongway. I’d take whatever Scarlett was willing to offer, which was a pretty fucking scary thought. Now aware of how late it was, I took the creaky steps downstairs as quietly as I could, even as each wooden plank groaned and protested beneath my feet.

My eyes barely adjusted to the gloom below deck—it was fucking dark without the stars and moonlight to help you see. I couldn’t remember where the hell the light switches were. They weren’t even the greatest lights, but they were better than nothing.

Fuck it. I stumbled along in the dark the best I could, keeping one hand along the wall asCarpe Diembobbed gently beneath my feet.

The kitchen door was solid beneath my hand, and I shoved it open, blinking in the suddenly bright light. The transition from the dark hallway to this was shocking.

I blinked again, rubbing at my eyes. “James?”

The usually put-together man sat at one of the chairs, looking positively bedraggled. He tipped a glass half-filled with an amber liquid. “Right in one.”

“Okay, then.” I shook my head, not sure if his crumpled shirt was more disturbing than the way his icy blond hair stood up in a thousand different directions. “Party for one?”

I stuck my head in the fridge, scrounging for a midnight snack, my eyes landing on some shredded chicken and bread. A sandwich would be perfect. I pulled my ingredients out and started assembling my meal. James watched me from his perch, the smell of alcohol all too clear now that I’d been in the room for a few minutes.

His gaze made me uncomfortable. I didn’t know what he was watching me for, or what he could be looking for, but if I had half a guess, he was probably plotting how best to knock me out and throw me overboard without anyone knowing. A few quick calculations relaxed me. James was stronger than me, but he was—going off appearance alone—absolutely plastered. I had some inches on him, so if push came to shove, I’d be able to fend him off fairly easily.

James still didn’t look away, his heavy gaze boring into my chest. Finally I raised my eyes, meeting him directly. “Did you want a sandwich?”

James grimaced. “Is there even any chicken left after that monstrosity you just constructed?”

I looked down at my dinner, wondering what the hell was wrong with my meal? It wasn’t like the three inches of chicken was going to go to waste.

“I’m being facetious. I’m fine.” James swirled his drink around in his hand. “See? Liquid dinner. Also known as the dinner of champions.” When he set his glass down, some of his drink sloshed over the side. I winced.

The bottle he was drinking likely cost more than my entire university education. Those drops he’d spilled could probably be a down payment on a car.

I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore, so I picked up my plate, about to put my sandwich in the fridge, when I hesitated. I didn’t want to spend more time with James than I had to. But the man was obviously drunk, and as much as he was a jackass who deserved the killer hangover he was going to have in the morning, it didn’t feel right to leave him alone either.

---