Cyrin wondered sometimes, very rarely, over the next two months if dating was a good idea. It had nothing to do with Arthur, and solely to do with his career and life. Okay, maybe it had a bit to do with Arthur. But that was just Avdey’s whisperings into his ear. The guy was sweet, charming, funny, and, not to mention, cute.
He enjoyed the time he spent with Arthur, and his new, very relaxed, job. But he still felt like he was missing something. Something big. But he always chalked it up to be paranoia and left it at that. He felt like what he was missing was right in front of his face, so close, he could reach out and just grab it.
It was almost everyday now that he felt the loss of his sister. At first, he couldn’t believe it, and that every time his phone buzzed, it would be her, asking him some stupid question or being annoying. It never was, because she was dead, and she would never text him again bugging him about anything. Then he felt slightly relived , he would have some peace and quiet in his life. Then came the guilt that he ever felt relived. And now, it was just an overbearing loneliness.
He usually overcame these feeling by (a) dancing, or (b) spending more time with Arthur. And now that they lived in the same building, made it super easy to see him. Which he enjoyed. A lot.
He found it easy to get along with the other tenants in the building as well, enjoying helping them with their problems. Not that there were many. Like Arthur had said, it was a quiet job, and almost everything ran smoothly.
The only thing Cyrin found too troubling were the nightmares. The ones that had him waking up in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat, unable to go back to sleep. These terrified him. Not just the things in the dreams, but the fact he was having them in the first place. He didn’t normally dream, and never nightmares. And yes, he knows that you always dream, but when you ‘don’t dream’, it’s you simply not recalling the dream you had or something.
But Cyrin could remember these nightmares. Vividly and clearly. He shudders slightly, setting his water bottle down on the table and sliding down to the floor in a split. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the flor and placing his chin into his hands. He stares at the screen of his phone for a moment. What should he watch while he did useless stretches to divert his mind from the horrid nightmares?
He reaches his finger out and scrolls through Netflix and tilts his head slightly. He was getting bored with all his current shows. Maybe he would find something he didn’t normally watch. Avdey was begging him to watch this show. . . The Blacklist? He frowns and searches for it, reading the small paragraph of information about the show. Maybe. . . His gaze flicks to the time and sighs, hitting play on the show.
(He just sits there, doing the splits and watching TV on his phone- I’m sorry dude, but how? /j)