Midnight to Miss You

Far from dusk but not close enough to dawn, he sat bolt upright in bed. The sweat flung from his forehead and spattered across the hotel’s generously sized television. His breath came quick and shallow; his heart abused the inside of his rib cage.

It was a full minute before he realized he was gripping the sheets tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. Another minute still, and he was able to tell himself, for certain, that he was safe, just in a hotel room, sleeping with a beautiful woman. There was no imminent danger other than in his troubled dreams.

The woman! He shook off the confusion of his sudden waking, hoping he had not disturbed her delicate slumber. He had to laugh that he described anything about her as delicate. She had been so strong through everything, the threats, the chase, the explosions, and even the cross-dressing. The pleasant memories subsumed the jarring images of his dream, and he smiled.

He looked over to check the soundness of her sleep but only saw an empty hotel bed.

View this story's 3 comments.