Chapter - Shadows Between Midnight

Chapter 3 – Shadows Between Midnight

Aiden’s house was quiet when he got back. Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that makes the walls feel like they’re watching.

He tossed his keys onto the table, the jingle echoing in the hollow space. His place wasn’t much—just a small apartment with a couch that had seen better days, a desk littered with half-used notebooks, and walls marked by the kind of loneliness only someone like him could carry. He liked it that way. No clutter, no warmth, nothing to get attached to.

He sat on the edge of his bed, running his hand over his face. His body was heavy, his mind restless. Sleep tugged at him, but he resisted. He hated sleep. Not because he feared the dark—darkness never scared him. No, it was the dreams.

Dreams weren’t dreams to Aiden. They were reruns. Memories. Fragments of things he wanted to bury but couldn’t. They came back sharper at night, cutting into him while he was helpless. And so, he trained himself to fight against it. To stay awake until exhaustion forced him under. Even then, he never woke rested.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, headphones half-dangling from his neck. Just as his eyes began to grow heavy, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Emma.

The name lit up the dark room, softer than a candle, brighter than it had any right to be. He stared at it for a moment, a smirk ghosting his lips. She didn’t strike him as the type to call someone at midnight.

He picked up.

“Didn’t peg you as the kind to break curfew,” he drawled, voice low, rough with fatigue.

On the other end, Emma’s voice carried a mix of hesitation and relief.

“I… I didn’t mean to call this late. Were you sleeping?”

Aiden huffed out a laugh, lying back against his pillow. “I don’t sleep much. You’re good.”

There was silence for a second, and then she admitted softly, “I couldn’t sleep. Thought maybe talking would help.”

Her words settled into the air between them, fragile, like a confession. Aiden shifted, one arm tucked behind his head. He wasn’t used to people reaching for him—for comfort, no less.

“So, I’m your lullaby now?” he teased, but there was no bite to his tone.

Emma laughed, small and genuine. “Hardly. More like… you’re the only one I thought of calling.”

That tugged at something in him, something he tried to ignore. He let out a slow breath. “Dangerous habit, princess. Call me too much and I might start thinking you like me.”

“Maybe I do,” she shot back, surprising even herself with the boldness.

For the first time that night, Aiden smiled—really smiled. Not the careless smirk he wore like armor, but something softer, unguarded. He wished she could see it, though a part of him was glad she couldn’t.

They talked. About nothing. About everything. Emma rambled about her favorite books, the little bakery down the street she always meant to try, how she hated the rain but loved the smell of it. Aiden listened, occasionally throwing in sarcastic comments, but never once interrupting her flow.

And somewhere between her laughter and her sighs, he realized he didn’t mind listening. He could have listened forever.

“Why don’t you sleep?” she asked eventually, the question slipping through the cracks of their easy conversation.

Aiden’s jaw tightened. He could have lied. He usually did. But tonight, he didn’t feel like hiding. Not from her.

“I don’t like what I see when I close my eyes,” he said quietly, almost too low for the phone to catch.

Emma hesitated. “Nightmares?”

“Something like that,” he muttered. “Dreams aren’t dreams for me. They’re reruns. Things I’d rather forget. So I stay awake until my body wins. Easier to fight the dark when your eyes are open.”

On the other end, she didn’t press. She didn’t push for more. Instead, she whispered, “Then I’ll keep you company tonight. So you don’t have to fight it alone.”

He froze. No one had ever said that to him before.

“You’re gonna stay on the phone ‘til I pass out?” he asked, half-amused, half-baffled.

“If you want me to.”

For a moment, Aiden didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t afraid of anything—he never had been. But the idea of someone willingly staying, even if only through a phone line, scared him in a way nothing else could. It was too real. Too close.

He exhaled slowly. “You’re something else, Emma.”

She chuckled, already sounding sleepy. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He listened to her breathing even out, softer with each passing second, until finally, he was the only one awake. The silence didn’t feel heavy anymore. For once, it felt… safe.

Aiden stared at the ceiling, phone still pressed to his ear. His dreams might come for him tonight, but maybe, just maybe, they’d feel less sharp knowing her voice had been the last thing he heard before slipping under.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t fight sleep. He let it take him.

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