[American Horror] Light Addiction

?Tate glanced behind her back without any trace, not sure if he noticed something, then said goodbye to her as if he didn't notice, and turned to leave.

She stared at his back downstairs, hesitated for a while, and suddenly called out to him: "Langdon."

He turned on the stairs, looking unsurprised, just emphatically to her: "Tate."

"Okay, Tate." She smiled unconsciously, but it was not the time to relax yet, she pursed her lips, frowned, and asked hesitantly, "Do you think I'm weird?"

"Strange? Are you talking about sleepwalking?" He raised his eyebrows indifferently. "It's nothing to be surprised about. Everyone who lives here sleepwalks."

She began to breathe a sigh of relief, but the second half of the sentence made her tense up suddenly, "Huh?"

Tate shrugged, with a small dimple on the corner of his slightly raised mouth, that smile looked cute and sincere, if not, Aimee almost thought he was teasing her.

"Well, unfamiliar surroundings will always subconsciously make travelers trekking uneasy," Tate spread his hands, as if trying to convince her, "not to mention you're from... where did you live?" He handed her a questioning question eyes.

"Rappo."

"Maine? Quite a long way indeed." He winked at her cutely boyishly.

"Maybe you're right." His indifference made her relax unconsciously, and she had the strength to mention her hometown, "Lapulo is in New England in the northeast corner, adjacent to the border. Many southerners almost think it is Canadian."

"And Los Angeles..." She made a diagonal line in the air.

Tate said knowingly, "Los Angeles is on the east coast, and the distance from Ladlow spans the entire United States."

"Moreover, Ladlow is surrounded by mountains and forests, and the forest coverage rate is over 80%." She added.

"Wow, it can run for the most desolate town." He made an exaggerated expression cooperatively.

She was amused by his exaggerated acting skills, and almost laughed out loud. Soon, she covered the corners of her mouth, paused, and raised her head, as if she wanted to see the sky through the ceiling, "The night in Lapulo is very quiet, and the stars there are beautiful Bright, you can even see the edge of the light, they seem to pierce the atmosphere and fall down at any time."

"But," she said here, Wei Dai lowered her head sadly, just looking into the boy's dark eyes.He lay on the banister of the stairs and stared at her quietly, his eyes focused and serious.

She was taken aback.

"But L.A. is too noisy and messy." Tate took up her remaining words. "There is no virgin land in California anymore. We are all living on the heads of dead people. Compared with Lapulo, there is no more space here. "

"But, even here, you can find a place as peaceful as Lapulo." He straightened up and held out his hand to her.

She walked up to him subconsciously, looked up at him, with stubbornness and anticipation in her eyes, "How can you show me? [Do you want to show me?]"

But he passed her, took the water glass in her hand, took the medicine bottle away, and walked into her room.

Aimee was startled suddenly, she was thrown back into the panic nightmare without defense, her heart almost jumped out of her bones, she controlled herself to remain calm.

Clozapine.

Maybe he didn't pay attention to the name on the medicine bottle?Or even if you saw it, you thought it was a common cold medicine.

She kept comforting herself.

Tate had already stepped out, and Aimee looked at his expression tremblingly, but nothing unusual could be seen.He was holding the dark windbreaker she had hung on the hanger before, walked to her side, and put the coat on her as if nothing had happened.

All Aimee's mind was spent on guessing his thoughts, and unconsciously let him help her fasten the single-breasted button.His series of movements were natural and smooth, and he didn't give her any time to resist shock.

"Are we going out?" she asked dully.

"Not really." He turned back and smiled at her, fresh and appropriate, "But at this time of year, Los Angeles is still a bit cold at night, although it's not as cold as Lapulo."

She followed him to the marble corridor in the courtyard.

Tate backhand jumped onto the unglazed window frame, Aimee hesitated for a moment, Tate pulled her up through his sleeve before she decided to run away. Aimee belatedly realizes that she no longer rejects his indirect contact. Tate still pulled back a distance without a trace.

On the corridor, luxuriant vines spread in clusters. They are wrapped around the marble relief angels, stretching wantonly, and hanging green silk ribbons around them.The statue of the Virgin on the top lowered its eyes, seeming to look down on the naked little angel with compassion, but also indifferently.

Tate leaned back on his elbow and looked at the sky through the gaps in the dense vines. "When I was young, I liked it very much. I hid here to pray in the middle of the night, listening to the night wind blowing away the sound, thinking that there was someone from the other side of the world. People will hear."

"Are you religious?" Aimee asked casually.

"Of course not." His side face was hidden in the shadow cast by the statue of the Virgin, and Aimee couldn't see the sharp irony on his raised lips, but only heard his soft and low voice, "I pray not to God Listen, but for my father."

Aimee intuited that this was not a deep topic. Tate's initiative does not mean that she will ask questions, nor does it mean that she will be as brave and honest.

She has so much to hide, so many worries.

Tate turned his head and asked her: "Do you believe in God?

"...I don't believe it." She denied it for a moment, her eyes widened, and familiar and immature faces appeared in the time and space connected by the dots, "There are no undead and Satan, nor their opposite God. "

"It's an interesting point of view." He raised his eyebrows, and this movement carried the natural handsomeness of a young man on him.

"However, sometimes," he leaned towards her, lowering his voice with a hint of mystery, "sometimes this house makes me believe that there is a supernatural power. It has a long history and has touched many people. Maybe, that The ghost of the one-person homeowner is haunting here."

His expression was solemn, and he couldn't see the meaning of the joke.

She thought of her "sleepwalking" and was terrified when she thought about it, and she couldn't help but be infected by his seriousness.She looked around, the courtyard was dimly lit, the shadows of the trees were whirling, and the gate in the middle of the fence was connected to the road. At this moment, there was no sound, and even the mosquitoes disappeared. Some things invisible to the naked eye were embedded in the night, just like a lurking bird. Behemoths wait for their prey to be buried.It is inaccessible, even if it is eaten, no one will find it.

She held her breath, as if she was afraid of disturbing those things.

At this moment, the boy's loud laughter was suddenly heard.

Aimee turned her head, Tate leaned forward and back with a smile, that smile was bright and contagious, it was hard to get angry.When she looked back, he held back his smile slightly, his breath was still a little unsteady due to the laughter just now, "Do you really believe it?"

She lowered her head, frowned, and said softly, "Maybe that would be better."

He straightened up slightly, and leaned back on the corridor, his crooked posture was because he was in his youth, and he had a different demeanor.He smiled and looked serious, "There is a theory that says that if you meet a person for 7 seconds, you can see through his character."

Aimee heard the same argument as Dr. Beth, and without raising her head, she asked calmly, "So?"

"Well," she caught a glimpse of him shrugging his shoulders out of the corner of her eye, "When I looked down from upstairs, I saw a girl who looked cold on the surface, but was actually agitated and insecure."

She put away her original indifference, and looked at him over her shoulder.

Tate looked up at the girl through her curly hair, "Aimee, don't push yourself too hard."

"You don't have to be on edge all the time, and there's nothing worth guarding against."

He lowered his voice, his tone was soft and slow, as quiet as if he was afraid of disturbing her.

The night sky in Los Angeles County is high and gloomy, without stars, and the haze is deep and dark, and the nothingness is suffocating.The canopy of the eucalyptus hung like a swollen black flame against the menacing night sky.

The young man leaned sideways on the corridor, the wings of the Madonna above his head cast a dark shadow, he was shrouded in dim light, his eyes were scattered with broken light, like afterimages of stars left in the atmosphere from many light-years away.He looked at her sincerely, his pure black pupils were moving because of his over-focus.

Aimee didn't start, the urge to run away was brewing in his chest.She hated other people's open eyes, which made her realize that she was a secretive guy.

But before she could act on the idea of ​​leaving, Tate looked away, and he looked up at the dark night sky, and Aimee followed his gaze, and there was nothing there, just nothingness.

When she was puzzled, Tate said, "This is why you like Dickinson? You resonate with her?"

"Huh?" Pulling away from the chaotic thoughts, she didn't follow his train of thought for a moment.

"Well, Dickinson, an ascetic in the nineteenth century," he turned his eyes away from the night sky, "naturally with a strong melancholy temperament, lived in isolation from the crowd for a long time, and behaved strangely."

He turned his eyes sideways and smiled at her, "I used to be quite infatuated with her."

"Maybe it's because of her lifestyle, maybe it's because her ideas are interesting, who knows." The smile on the corner of his mouth grew wider and wider, as if he was about to burst into laughter, but it finally converged at the right angle, bright and sincere.He lifted the hair in front of his forehead - this action was refreshing and chic - lowered his eyes, with an unfinished smile on his brows, "What about you, Aimee?"

"...I don't know, her poems make me feel calm." She followed his example and stared at the void. Gradually, the abyss-like darkness seemed to be echoed, and something emerged from the depths, forcibly catch her eye.

"What makes you feel calm?" he asked with interest.

"Probably the point of view she conveyed." She thought for a while, "Her poems say that life is just a story that happened before death."

"And death is the station that leads to eternal life from the body." He took her words tacitly.

Aimee smiled at Tate's understanding, "It makes me feel..."

She pondered the wording, and finally used "hopeful", "yes, full of hope."

Wait!

It dawned on her that she was confessing all the weird thoughts she'd been having all along, ideas she'd never told anyone—if she told the doctor, she'd be waiting in Lyton for the rest of her life—but what would Tate think of it? she?Did she screw up again.

She turned her head slightly, secretly observing his expression.

Tate leaned back on his arms and raised the corners of his mouth as always, even a little bit comfortably.He was looking up at the emptiness and darkness above, "So, death is not a problem, it's just a boundary, and when you cross it, nothing changes, except your perspective of the world and creatures."

"But there are those who, while they are alive, have lost their spirit, who do not write, read, think, but live by instinct, and they are hopeless. They stir up strife, blame for reasons that are inexplicable, Smug, like a pile of carrion that consumes calories and protein, and serves no purpose other than taking up space and making the world more crowded and suffocating." He stared sideways at Aimee, "It makes me angry."

His voice was soft and gentle, although his words were sharp, there was an unknowing loneliness in his eyes.

"I don't understand them, and I won't be understood." He turned his head, and his eyes fell on the void above again. "Sometimes, I feel that the world is empty, and only I exist."

"Of course not." Like him, Aimee lay beside her with her hands folded under her head.She repeated, "You are not alone and never will be."

He turned his head, and there was a ray of sunshine in his eyes, which she hadn't seen in anyone else. The corners of his mouth were raised, and his smile shone like gold.

A strong force erupted from the surroundings, softly winding and connecting them.

They were half lying down, not talking, enjoying the silence at this moment like old friends after reunion.

A few planes passed by in the dull sky in the distance, and the night lights on them danced with colorful and blurred lights, twinkling and twinkling, gentle and full of life.