Page 133 of Somno Slave

Damn.

I rise slowly.

The machine whirs again. Sean braces one hand on the side panel and pulls at the crumpled corner with the other.

“Don’t,” I start, but it’s too late.

The paper rips with a dry, ugly sound.

He exhales sharply. “Brilliant.”

I reach past him, clicking the power button. The machine splutters once and then dies mid-whirl. Silence drops heavier than the noise was.

I crouch, fingers sliding under the plastic lip. The trapped sheet is folded in on itself, teeth marks staining the paper from the rollers embedded in the page. Words stretch and warp where the ink has dragged.

I steady the tray with my palm before gently tugging the paper free, slower this time. It resists, then gives with a soft sigh.

For a split second, the sensation jolts through me...

Cloth tearing.

Chains shifting.

It’s awfully familiar, like a memory is being dragged up through my chest.

I blink hard.

“Got it,” I say, forcing my voice steady.

I smooth the page out, though the corner hangs mangled and useless.

We stay in silence and it stretches for far too long.

Sean is watching me now.

“You’re shaking,” he says quietly.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I said I’m fine.” The words land sharper than I mean them to.

He doesn’t react, just reaches past me and click the power button again. The machine hums back to life.

I rise to my feet slowly.

He gathers the pages as they spill into the tray, his nails scraping on the plastic. He doesn’t look at me while he stacks them. His movements are efficient. Detached. But his eyes are flat and tired. He looks away like I’m nothing.

Frustration bubbles within me.

“Did I...” the words start before I can swallow them. “Do something? To you, I mean.”

He pauses mid-stack. “What?”

“You’re...” I hesitate. “quiet around me.”

“I’m a quiet person.”