Prompt 3: In the dark of the night, evil will find you--and this is the worst kind. This is the kind you did to yourself. Before bed, between one tired, fluttering blink and the next, you see a figure in the darkest corner of your room--a ghastly silhouette hovering. You lock eyes with it--and then it hits you. A wave of regret, pulsing and unyielding. The combination of something embarrassing or horrible, or a regret nagging at you for an unfinished deed, or remembering a failure of yours--you are consumed with the thoughts of something you regret. It feels like an eternity passes as you're wracked with guilt and grief and regret; you don't remember falling asleep, but when you wake, the figure is gone. If you're lucky, the regret is too.

Elias used to be good at sleeping-

What a dumb thing to think. It really was, and he knew it. Eli wasn't really ashamed of the thought- it was true, regardless of how dumb it was- but it was still ridiculous to be laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night thinking about how he just missed sleeping comfortably and waking feeling happy.

If anyone were to ask, he'd say that his life had never been more perfect. He was good at his job, had a great house, a happy kid. Nothing was missing. What more could he want?

Elias wouldn't mention his ex-husband, wouldn't complain that something hadn't been right near the end. He wouldn't admit that the other man had been acting so strange and distant and that the only thing Elias could even imagine as a reason was that Micah had been cheating on him and felt guilty about it enough to leave him. He wouldn't say that he'd riled himself up just thinking about it to the point where even though he had no proof of any such misdeeds, he was angry about it.

And he'd acted unfairly.

Micah had wanted to leave him, and instead of trying to know why and sort out whatever issues they'd had, Elias had assumed the worst, and consequently pushed away the man he loved.

He didn't know what he should've done, but he probably shouldn't have thrown Micah out. Even if he had been cheating on him (which even to this day, Elias had no proof of- he'd never seen Micah with anyone else when they passed the child off between one another...), Eli probably shouldn't have acted so crassly.

No matter if it still made him angry. The thought prickled under his skin and made him grit his teeth.

They weren't even together, anymore. They weren't married, anymore, and Elias still felt his throat close and his jaw tense, and he wanted to know why everything had gone so wrong so abruptly. They'd been married. They'd had a house. They'd had a family. And now... Now it was just Eli living in their house, and they passed their child between them like trading cards in the school yard.

Elias heaved a long breath and forced his eyes closed. Maybe he should invest in some sleeping pills, or something. Sawtooth kept him up later some nights than others, so he wasn't really on a regular sleep schedule. Maybe some kind of rest aid would be helpful.

His dark lashes lifted again, despite his best efforts, and in that moment, he thought he saw something lurking in the corner of his room. It should've frightened him. He should have jumped out of his skin. He knew how evil things in this city could be. He should've thought to power up and do something, do something! Especially since it was in his house, where he lived and slept, and where his kid lived and slept.

But bizarrely, his sluggish mind didn't even register the thing as a threat. It was a shadowy entity that looked like it spawned from chaos, but Elias' thoughts could only tumble unhelpfully over wondering what he should have done... How could he have fixed this...?

Did he ruin everything?

Did he make it worse?

Had he done something to upset his passive husband from the beginning? It may not have been anything Micah had done, at all. It may have always been something Elias did, and Micah was too afraid to bring it up, too concerned to confront him...

Maybe Elias had made it too easy to leave him...

What should he have done, what should he have done? His dark lashes fell shut and lifted blearily. There was nothing in his room. Nothing besides his furniture and darkness. He barely questioned the thought that there might have been something in his room.

It was just him, laying alone and tired in his bed, waiting to pass into slumber and wondering why things had turned out like they had...

[WC: 679]