Hello, everyone. My name is Rudie, and I have a passion for daydreaming. To get out of my comfort zone, I'm finally brave enough to write on tumblr! Here is my updated tag list to find all chapters of my fan fiction. I do not own the rights to any of these characters, save for the ones I created to add to the universes I fell in love with! More chapters will be produced and added accordingly here. Some chapters may contain 18+ scenes. Minors, do not interact with my page, please. Each chapter with any content will be specified at the top of the fan fiction chapter beneath the title. I am NOT open to collaborations on any of my works unless asked permission for collaboration in DM. Please do not steal my work. I shouldn’t even say this. For the love of all, do not plagiarize. Thank you for observing this! Enjoy <3
Moon Knight
I. Besos De Fuego- Jake Lockley X f!reader (NSFW)
2. Dark Side of the Moon- Jake Lockley X f!reader SFW- themes of domestic bliss
Stranger Things
Living Dead Boy- Eddie Munson Ch. 1- NSFW for graphic themes, vampirism, The Works
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction
I. Beautiful Dreamer
II. Moe 'huane
III. White Noise
IV. Hush
V. Parasomnia
VI. Lull
VII. Sleep Debt
VIII. Circadian
IX. Somnolence
Heated Rivalry
1. In the Middle (NSFW)
Keanu Reeves Characters
Sweet Roll- Johnny Utah, Point Break (1991 film) NSFW! 18+
Tags/Warnings: NSFW, 18+ (go do your math homework ffs), dudebro non consensual touching and harassment (boo tomato tomato, trigger warning for some unsolicited BS from dudes who can’t stand to see a bad bitch winning), body worshiping- hips, thighs, tummies, and back rolls (hot ppl have all of the above. So do i <3 ), doggy style, FERAL Johnny Utah, biting, heavy praise, CONDOM USE (I’m trying to set a good example), on the beach at night (don’t try this at home y'all, it’s illegal I fear)... I think that’s it. Enjoy a gorgeous piece that made me fall for Keanu Reeves tenfold... <3 (The hardest thing about writing this was choosing a gif because whew LORDT)
Synopsis: You were tired of your surfing abilities AND your body being up for debate in Bohdi’s inner circle, that is, until Johnny Utah showed up. And Tyler was right, you couldn’t get past anything and his heady gaze. It doesn’t heat up until one fateful night where the young surfer comes undone at the sight of you. What follows is a night you’d never forget…
Surfing was always your first love. It may as well have been in your blood. Your connection to the ocean was spiritual at best, in motion with each wave and each turbulent tide, you saw yourself in it. And you couldn’t help but to laugh as you watched men try and “tame” its spirit. You knew that was impossible. Man had no control over nature, and taming it was comical to you. You knew it was better to move with it, than against it. Nature created life and was quick to take it away. Any man stupid enough to think otherwise was one of the many made into an example of its consequences.
But they sure as shit had a way to try and “tame” you.
You hated every second of it. No one was like this on the Big Island, at least in your family circles back in Kohanaiki Beach. You moved to California fresh out of high school and these surfer groups were just young, dumb, and full of cum. It was a sense of entitlement to territories that didn’t even belong to them, but belonged to indigenous people centuries prior.
And it was that same entitlement they all thought they had to you and your body.
You were tall as most of them. Tall, strong, and assertive. You were certain to not even delight in their neuroses even for a second. You were the best on those waves, and it pissed them off.
You felt most like yourself being around Tyler. Her presence wasn’t much like the others, often you stuck to surfing with her first. She wasn’t like the others, and knew when to shift her focus. She came into your life quietly as fog on the morning coastline, and never left. For the remaining summer, you needed some grounding.
And it was another session with Tyler that some of her “friends” decided to fuck up your day. You were talking shit about plans for the week, paying little attention to people calling for you from the sand. You didn’t care to prove yourself for male approval, but it was satisfying to see them cheering you on for success that day’s swells. Adrenaline was still rushing through your veins as you were changing out of your wetsuit with Tyler in the parking lot, scrambling under a tied towel for lunch.
“What are you doing tonight?” Tyler asked, “I’m going down to the pier, do you want to meet us?”
“Hell yeah, I’m down!” You beamed, rolling that drag of a rash guard down, “Are you guys getting drinks or what?”
“Yeah, we’ll probably meet at Bodhi’s place after too.” Tyler replied, “You did amazing out there by the way. I noticed your balance has improved out here.”
“Sure it has.” you grinned, “Today reminded me of the North shore my parents used to ride!”
Simple, normal conversation. You were pulling up your bra under the towel. You didn’t want to admit then how tight it had gotten on the underwire. Your body was changing, but that was fine. Tyler was thin, you always seemed to feel a tug of envy at how everyone looked at her. And you felt it then, something every woman had in your family, those back rolls. Didn’t matter how active you were- they always remained. You were certain and accepting of that.
Until Roach and Nathaniel jumped out the bushes near you and grabbed your towel. Neither of you realized they were waiting there, both of you screaming. Tyler was the first to beat Nathaniel with her shoe, hitting him square in the head. Your bare ass nearly got exposed to the parking lot, as you shoved Roach off.
And by grand convenience, it was Bodhi that pretended to chase him off and cover for you, grazing a protective hand on your waist.
“Hey, fuck you guys!” you yelled, throwing your other shoe at Roach. Roach cackled with glee, pretending he was struck in the head by a rock.
“Are you stupid or what?” you yelled, ready to square a punch to his jaw. Bodhi let out that wheezing chuckle on occasion, making half hearted attempts to hold you back.
This was their way of fucking around. You knew that, but this time it felt too personal to be considered loving.
“Alright, fuckers, get outta here!” He laughed as he shoved him away, “Jesus Christ, boys these days. Don’t hurt ‘em now, y/n.”
“Seriously?!” Tyler exclaimed, “We don’t ever do this to you!”
You feigned a nervous laugh. He was still standing behind you, holding up your towel. Your hand wrapped around, holding it tightly as you stepped forward.
“No, but it’s funny.” Bodhi remarked, “They just wanted to say hello, that’s all. I never asked them to do that.” He looked at you, “Are you coming tonight?”
“Uh, yeah.” you nodded, smiling.
You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, that he wasn’t as bad as the others. Bodhi’s smile did not reach his eyes when he looked into yours. He grazed his focus above your bustline, waiting for you to continue.
“Good job today.” Bodhi commented, “You might just give me a run for my money.”
Then his fingers pinched at your back rolls in a quick, playful manner.
“See you then, sweet roll.”
Fucking Sweet Roll.
Tyler tried to reassure you that the nickname was because of your upbringing on the Big Island, but she didn’t feel how it felt when he touched you that way. You didn’t tell her, knowing it was exhausting to ever vent about to anyone else. Or when the nickname seemed to stick with everyone, down to calling you Sweetie. You faked getting sick that night and didn’t go, and spent the rest of your evening sobbing your eyes out.
You weren’t meant to fit the skinny bitch mold that everyone wanted out of women and it drove you to the brink, nearly causing an injury in the weeks following as you overworked yourself to try and get rid of them. Bodhi’s actions sent you down a spiral, isolating yourself, and risking surfing in isolated territories by the ladder. It was easier than having to face him again.
You got a call one morning after work, Tyler begging you to come along for another swell that afternoon.
You refused at first, figuring those jackasses would be coming along.
“No, just one newbie.” Tyler’s voice fell flatly, “And he’s hopeless. I need your help showing him how it’s done.”
“What, with surfing?” You remarked, leaning against the doorway of your apartment, “Is he really that bad?”
“Yes, I just had to- hold on, sit the hell down!” She scoffed, “Please, Y/N, you need to get down here and help me out. I swear to god the rest won’t be here. This dude’s a mess out here, trying to kill himself on these waves.”
“What’s his name?” you asked.
“Johnny.” Tyler replied as if she tasted something sour in her mouth, “Now get out here and help me!”
Begrudgingly, you agreed. By the way Tyler spoke about him, you figured it was just some yuppie who came to California on vacation, or during some sort of midlife crisis. You giggled at the thought of Tyler trying to train a new surfer, with her patience.
But as you met him at the shore, you found the opposite.
Beside Tyler, you saw him. A tall, dark haired, and handsome man in his mid twenties. His black hair was tousled by the waves, making them curl softly on the edges. You were floored. It’s as if God had taken his time with him, chiseling each feature. His dark eyes scanned the horizon ahead, eyebrows relaxed as he spoke with her.
And then he looked at you.
His expression softened as you walked forward. The man’s jaw, previously so stiff, relaxed into a curious expression upon you. His flushed, defined lips curled into a gentle smile. His lidded, deep set eyes settled from their scowl and gave their full attention to you. You wore a rash guard over a one piece, leaving your thighs and long legs exposed. As much as he wanted to look down at your legs, observing the creamy nature of your skin, he chose to be respectful and keep his eyes above the horizon. As if that was much help. You knew you looked gorgeous. Johnny swallowed hard, still keeping a smile on his face as you were introduced.
“You must be Y/N.” He spoke cheerfully, bracing his hand against his board, “Tyler’s been torturing me all afternoon, are you going to do the same?”
You smiled softly, “Nah, I’m much worse. She’s actually the good cop between us both.”
“Oh!” Johnny chuckled, “Perfect.”
“Have you been giving her a hard time?” You teased, looking up at him.
Tyler mouthed the word “yes” behind him. You snickered.
“Ah… Sort of. Maybe? I don’t think so.” Johnny reassured you.
“Good, because I’m worse.” You said confidently, “Be prepared to wake up sore when I’m done with you.”
You laughed. The edges of his dark brown eyes creased as he smiled. You were melting inside like a chocolate bar left in the sun, as Tyler slammed a towel against your chest.
“I’m taking ten.” Tyler huffed, “You work with him. He’s got a good start, but it was like pulling teeth.”
Johnny shook his head, a faint flush falling over his cheeks.
“Sure, Ty.” You laughed, “Come here, Johnny. You’ve got a lot to learn.”
You started with a favor from your girlfriend, and it developed into a crush. He was genuinely a sweet guy. Those long summer afternoons alone together were ones you cherished most. On dry land, he was busy scanning the shoreline as if he was studying for a final exam. But when he was in the water, all of his inhibitions were lost upon him. Johnny talked very little about his past, and you found comfort in that. Most of the time he wanted to hear about your stories. There was hesitation in the way he moved down waves most times, especially if you were there. It was a running joke that you had to look the opposite direction when he finally caught some waves. But his confidence grew quickly, which was reassuring. He needed it once Bodhi and his little friends caught wind of his presence. You dreaded that in a short time, the sweet Ohio boy would become just like the rest of them, sucked into their cult of wanting to own the ocean that never owed them a damn thing.
There was a party at Bodhi’s in the weeks following your meeting. You decided to put it to the test and see if Johnny did change around them. That evening you basked in the sweetest smelling things, placing a plumeria behind your ear from the tree growing on your back patio. You were dressed in the main star of your evening- a bright, backless thing you found shopping. It was the same shade as a Los Angeles sunset, the kind you saw shining against Johnny’s sunkissed face. The cowled halter showed off your chest as well as your legs.
You fantasized deep down that Johnny would notice. He always noticed when your hair was cut, he noticed when you were trouble, and when you were truly happy. No one had paid attention that much before with pure intentions.
Each of your steps up to Bodhi’s place jingled with the amount of gold jewelry you had on, high off the buzz of pregaming before the party even began. As you entered the backyard, where the chaos of partygoers under the influence seemed to space out, you saw Bodhi first. He was holding a girl with a lime between her teeth, before taking a shot.
After finishing, he smiled at you both.
“Hey!” Tyler smiled behind him, waving at you.
“Welcome back, Sweet Roll.” Bodhi grinned as he handed you a shot, “What’s mine is yours.”
You cringed at the nickname, hoping by now they forgot about it by now. Johnny walked up behind Bodhi, his general excitement turning into awe at the sight of you. His eyes looked you up and down quickly, unable to tear away his gaze from anyone else. His canines flashed an upturned smile at you.
“Sweet roll?” Johnny mouthed, more curious to hear the context. You shook your head.
Bodhi offered you a shot of tequila. This was the closest you’d ever get of an apology from him, that was his usual way of doing things. You sighed, raising your brow softly at him.
Johnny was here, and you didn’t want to start any drama. There was only one thing you wanted out of the night. You accepted the shot with a smile.
“Thanks, Bodhi.” Your tone was saccharine, but you wanted to be kind. The idea of sharing a lime with him made you want to spit in his mouth, but knowing how he operated, you knew he’d like it.
As you clinked shot glasses with Bodhi, Johnny came closer. You noticed by the way he carried his head high with a smug smile across his lips that he may have had a few drinks too. There was a lime between his teeth. He tilted his head down at you, innocently inviting you to the chaser. Johnny swooped in like a knight in shining armor, cutting between you and Bodhi.
Bodhi and Roach whistled at his bold move. Tyler’s eyes widened as she looked away.
“Fuck it, what the hell.” You whispered, downing the shot in one go. Johnny’s hands wrapped around the smallest point of your waist as you swallowed.
“Atta girl!” Bodhi encouraged with a laugh, “Get loose with him!”
You tilted your head back and opened your lips, inviting Johnny in. Your mouth and throat were on fire from the tequila, but the lime juice you sucked on from that wedge felt sweeter knowing his lips were on the other end. You nearly kissed him as he dipped you back, making you grow dizzy.
As he lifted you back up, there were some jeers of approval, as Johnny put your arm around you. You laughed a little, feeling flushed at the sensation. His arms were so cut, holding you with a nearly crushing strength. He smiled down at you, brushing some lime fruit off your lower lip.
“Hi.” He smiled breathlessly, “You look gorgeous, y/n.”
“Hi,” You swallowed hard, laughing.
Johnny leaned in with his genuine smile, greeting you warmly as if he had been waiting for this moment.
“Now it’s a party for sure…” Johnny mused, “You’ve been busy, what the hell? Did I say you looked gorgeous?”
“Well, hello to you too.” You sputtered, looking up at him, “And thanks! You did, but now it’s twice as nice.”
“I was hoping I’d see you tonight.” Johnny admitted, “I missed you.”
“What is it that you missed?” You teased, walking towards the beach behind Bodhi’s house, “Me yelling at you to fix your ankles on your board?”
“Maybe I did.” Johnny murmured, “I always had a thing for bad cops.”
He couldn’t keep his hands off of you all night. Whether it was dancing, or having a few more drinks, he didn't want to be far from you. And even when you had to step out, he was only an inch away, fully hypnotized by you.
His hands would constantly trace down the bigger part of your arms every now and then, but it was your hips he seemed to like. He held them close then you danced, when your arms were around his neck. He looked angelic in that white button down and blue jeans, the true American dream if you ever saw it.
Hours passed like this as you let the music and alcohol take you. Early in the morning, when chaos was rattling the roof off, Bodhi and the remaining gathered for a bonfire on the beach. You were marveled by these shared stories, almost reminding you of home. Their language was vulgar, but it was entertaining to say the least. But it was rather cold at this hour. You weren’t sure where to sit to avoid most of the sea breeze, as you walked past the back of everyone’s heads. The alcohol made you a little sleepy, as your hand trailed across the tops of Johnny’s shoulders, tousling the hair at the nape of his neck. Johnny leaned into your touch. If the waves weren’t so loud behind you, you could’ve sworn he sighed from relief.
Lucky for you, he had a blanket over his shoulders.
Johnny’s hand grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you close to him. You froze, as he pulled you backwards towards him.
“Hey, c’mere.” Johnny said softly, “I know you’re freezing, come under here for a bit.”
You shivered as you fell back onto his right thigh, wrapping the oversized blanket over you both.
“Thank you, Johnny.” You whispered in relief, “Ah, fuck it’s too cold for this…”
You folded the open edges of the blanket over each other. Johnny grabbed you by your hips and placed you square into his lap before wrapping his arms around your stomach, pulling you flush against his chest.
“There.” He whispered in your ear. The weight of his head rested on your shoulder, looking at you, “That’s better, right?”
There was fluttering in parts of you that you couldn’t describe out loud. Goosebumps still ran down your arms and legs from the gesture and not the cold.
“Yeah, much better.” You praised, pecking his cheek. A shimmery, caramel colored mark was left on his fire touched face. Johnny’s pupils dilated at the gesture, as he softly pressed a single kiss to yours. His touch was gentle, asking for permission for more. There was a gentle stroke in his lower lip as you kissed back. You took your sweet time on his lower lip, savoring the flavor of his skin before pulling away.
Johnny held you close, pressing a kiss to your lips once more.
Everyone was so engrossed with their stories and didn’t seem to notice. It became a game between you two, seeing what either one could get away with when no one was looking. The intentions at the beginning were chaste, slow, and sweet. You each took a turn stealing small kisses, exchanging gentle touches. Your hands brushed over his, making small circles over each knuckle. It wasn’t long that his entire face was covered with your glossy kisses. The fire light gave them all away, making him shine like a diamond.
Then you decided to push the boundary, once shifting on his lap. Johnny groaned in the back of your neck. You could tell as each minute passed, he was starting to get hungrier. You felt it too, feeling a weight forming in your stomach. It didn’t help that he seemed obsessed with it, rubbing your skin under the dress softly. He kneaded into your stomach with tender touches. If it was anyone else you would have slapped them away. But you didn’t. Johnny explored with tender, slow hands. It was as if he was tracing out every inch of your figure to remember in total darkness. His hands rose once to trace the outline of your back and waist, then lowering to your hips. You had to sit there with a flushed face and pretend to care about Nathaniel’s story for the evening, and stare at the fire as if nothing was going on under the fabric. Johnny’s soft exhale was felt in your ear as he caressed your figure. His open hands rolled over the hot flesh of your thighs inward. There was desperation in the noise. Your throat felt tight.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, “Where did you get this dress? I’d really love to know…”
You snapped your focus. Arousal was forming between your legs as he had reached your thighs.
“Hm?” You swallowed, “Oh, this thing?”
“Yeah, this one.” Johnny mused, “You look so good in it.”
“Oh, you know.” You said nonchalantly, “Just a boutique down the way my friend owns.”
“You’ve got great taste, I always knew you did.” He said as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. You felt it then, a tent right beneath you. The weight of his arousal pressed against yours. He was inexplicably hard. As a tease, you playfully rolled your hips back onto him. Johnny inhaled sharply, stopping you.
“But if you do that again, I’ll rip it to shreds.” Johnny held onto you with a firm grip. He was trying to be intimidating, but the desperation in his words lead to little imagination about how much he’d ruin your clothes.
“Then I’ll have no choice but to get another.” You joked, “And make you pay for it… To make up for it.”
“I still owe you for helping me surf, y/n.” Johnny whispered, “And I’ll get you anything you want. You just have to tell me, I’ll give you everything.”
“Anything I want?” You repeated, asking again, “Interesting. Maybe I can go back and get the dress she had in teal.”
“You wouldn’t leave.” Johnny remarked, “I wouldn’t let you leave like that.”
For a moment, you pouted.
“Don’t tell me you want me to cover up.” You snorted.
Johnny squeezed the inner parts of your thighs. You gasped at the sensation, his bruising grip nearly making you whimper in front of everyone.
“No, no.” Johnny’s tone grew darker, “You wouldn’t make it out of your place, because I’d stop you at the front door and rip it off you again.”
He pressed his lips between your shoulders, making you sigh. You closed your eyes for a moment, smiling sweetly. It was hard to keep up the act around everyone, as Bodhi’s attention lingered on you. You looked away, towards the distant horizon.
Johnny’s hands finally approached a new territory. A much riskier, higher territory. They wrapped around you from behind and carefully cupped your breasts. You let him, plastering the most relaxed face for everyone to see. Inside, you were moaning. Hot pricks of arousal trailed across your nipples as he flicked them under his thumbs. The rush of his touch was maddening, as you shifted again.
He was about to stop you when he realized why you squirm so much. You carefully removed the underwear around your hips in one swift motion.You grinned softly, taking his hand between your legs. Johnny’s lower lip trembled as he was reminding himself to breathe, feeling the arousal thick between your thighs. His long finger searched for your clit, pressing down once on the fleshy bud. You jolted softly, making him snicker. Then, it reached deeper between your legs, scooping at your entrance. You bit the inner part of your cheek to hold back a moan as his fingers slipped once inside you, then out. He quickly placed your underwear in his pocket.
Johnny’s jaw was slack at the sensation of your slick on his hands.
“I knew you liked me.” He whispered in your ear, “I just didn’t realize how much you wanted it too.”
You looked back at Bodhi’s house. The rooms were most likely all taken up by strung out stoners and other hookups. You weren’t fond of the idea of sharing that space. For him, it was different. But in the distance, you saw a rock formation of tide pools. You squinted in the distance to see how far of a walk it was.
“Five minutes.” Johnny answered, “I’ll see you there in five minutes.”
You looked back at him, in shock at his thinking.
“Sure.” you whispered, getting up. Johnny let you take the blanket with him, “And not a minute later.”
To be fair, it was still cold. You headed off into the murk pretending to be way more drunk than you actually were.
“Hey, Sweetie!” Bodhi called after you, “Where the hell are you going?”
“For a walk!” You yelled without looking back, “Mind ya business!”
Your fake tipsy waddle across the cool sand turned into a happy trot. As you reached the edge of the rock formations, you maneuvered by moonlight across them. The last thing you needed was a broken ankle by the time he showed up. There was a full moon out to give you plenty of light, as you wandered into a small sandbar between rock formations. The tide was out just enough so that you’d both have room. Stone formations blocked out the chilly sea breeze as you set up the blanket.
Arousal was seeping through every fiber in your body, as you ran your hands across your body. You closed your eyes, remembering Johnny’s touch. Your fingertips stretched between your legs, remembering how his fingers felt inside of you. You looked down at your figure, remembering every inch of his warm hands touching you.
As you bent forward to fix the corner of that blanket, two firm hands gripped on the widest portion of your hips, pressing their boner into the back of your wet pussy.
You flinched a moment and let out a small noise from fear. Johnny’s hums of pleasure surfaced through the darkness, making your clit twitch.
Johnny’s aroused sigh was masked by a husky laugh, “It’s just me, gorgeous.”
You sighed in relief, as you rose up to meet him. You turned around, gasping as he pulled you into a hungry kiss. He wasn’t as chaste now, seeping his tongue between your lips and rolling it across your teeth. You practically moaned into his mouth as you kissed back, his hands firmly grasping your butt under your skirt. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, nearly too lost in his kisses to do anything else. His tongue was dominant over all your senses, taking its sweet time to savor every second of your taste.
His kisses were desperate, as they pulled from your lips to your throat. His breathing hitched, caressing his face against the crook of your perfumed skin.
“Is this why they call you sweet roll, hmm?” Johnny asked into your neck, making you squirm as he slapped your butt, “Because you smell so sweet? Because once I have you, I can’t get enough?”
“No.” You opened your eyes, holding onto him a little tighter, “Because of my… Well…”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud. He looked up at you , covering your face in tiny kisses. It melted your moment of vulnerability away, making you giggle.
“I’m listening.” Johnny affirmed.
“Well, It’s because-” You began to say, just as he began kissing you again, holding you by your hips. You laughed lightly, trying to finish your sentence.
“Go on.” Johnny insisted, “Please, I want to know.”
“It’s a stupid joke that Bodhi- Johnny!” you cried as Johnny began to kiss you, tipping you back so he could nuzzle his face in your breasts. Your laugh turned into a screech as he kissed the damp skin between them. He inhaled the scent of your body and exhaled, tracing kisses up the low cut of your dress to your lips.
“Will you let me finish?!” You exclaimed as you palmed his boner in your hands. That got him to change his attitude fast.
“What is it then?” Johnny’s voice was sugared as he looked into your eyes, “What’s his problem with a pretty girl like you?”
“It’s my fucking backrolls.” You said swiftly, feeling your face run hot with blood, “He squeezed them when I was having a good day. I’m trying to lose them, all of this.”
You motioned to your body, “But it seems counter intuitive now.”
Johnny shook his head and sighed, “Oh, now that’s just a dick fuckin’ move.”
Insecurities began to creep in, as you pulled down your dress. Johnny watched you carefully, keeping his hands firmly on your hips. You couldn’t bear to look at him now, trying to hide from his gaze. His hand tilted your cheek to look back at him. Those sweet eyes of his returned, as he wiped tears from your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t be sad.” Johnny reassured, “Oh, man. I’m so sorry, y/n.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” You wiped your face, not even realizing you had started crying, “It’s so stupid, and when you hold me, I just feel safe, now.”
You choked up a little more, and Johnny hugged you for a second. He grew quiet, rubbing your back. There was that scowl of his again, as he glanced over his shoulder to speak to you once more.
“You know what? Fuck him.” Johnny insisted, “Not literally, but metaphorically. He can go fuck himself off that cliff, right there in the horizon. Because I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of you since the first day I met you. You are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen in my life. Do you hear me?”
He brushed his fingertip across your lower lip. He was holding your face, using his thumbs to wipe the corner of your eyes from their tears. You laughed at the idea of Bodhi falling off the cliff.
“And I’ll make it look like an accident!” Johnny exclaimed, “What do you say? I’ll do anything to make sure you don’t cry again.”
“Thanks, Johnny.” You sniffed, smiling warmly at him. Johnny kissed your forehead and looked at you in awe again.
“Island girl.” He spoke in wonder, “Of course he’s jealous. I can see how they all look at you. You have something they don’t.”
Johnny’s warm forehead pressed against yours as he planted a soft kiss on your lips.
“You treat the ocean like you want to.” Johnny whispered, “And you respect it. You don’t want to own it. It flows with you, y/n. It drives them nuts, don’t you see it?”
You smiled and caressed the side of his chiseled face, tracing the shadow of his jawline against moonlight. He looked beautiful here, holding you so tenderly.
You whispered, “I was afraid they’d change you. That you’d be like one of them, chasing after the rush.”
Johnny shook his head, “To be like one of them? Not even in the slightest. I’m not going to sit here and take credit for you and Tyler’s hard work. Why do you think I got up early every morning to train with you before work?”
“Because I’m the bad cop with a soft spot.” You answered lightly, playing with his hair.
“Because I wanted to learn from you.” Johnny whispered in your ear again.
The reverberation of his voice brought an ecstasy within you that kept arousal weeping between your legs. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the lining of the material thinner than patience for humanity. But there, in your arms was a man that gave you every reason not to fear a man’s touch again.
As Johnny’s broad body pinned you against the side of a rock formation, every single doubt about him left your body.
“You are so beautiful.” He praised, untying the halter top of your dress, “I need to see all of you, please. I can only go so long based on memory to feel you. You’ve been driving me crazy tonight, I-” He shook his head, “Shit, I can’t ever say what I-”
His pleas were desperate, those hands roaming. Your fingertip dragged across his lips, pausing his stammering voice.
You nodded once, resting your back against the stone formation, “Go on, baby. Take it off for me.”
What he did next, you’d never forget.
Johnny’s jaw slacked as he slid your dress down over your breasts and stomach. Shimmering moonlight mixed with your body glitter made you look like a siren from a sailor’s dream. He traced his hands across your freed breasts and paid careful attention to squeezing on your nipples softly. Your breasts were spilling out of his hands. Johnny’s head disappeared between them, as his lips pressed kisses to your sore undersides. You moaned softly as his lips latched onto each nipple and suckled softly. He suckled slowly on your skin and let his tongue flick the tops of them. His dark lashes fluttered in pleasure at the sensation of your hard nipples in his mouth.
Johnny fell to his knees and held you tightly by your ribcage as he continued his way down your body. His kisses became ticklish at your stomach and hips. You began to giggle, as his kisses deepened. Your body twitched and squirmed under him, as he smiled up at you.
“Honey, what are you doing?” The pet names flowed freely, “What is it about you there?”
Johnny looked up at you again, leaning his face against your uterus,
“I’m just really in love with this. This, right here.” He hummed, “I want to stay here. Your skin is so soft, I love how tender you feel here.”
“Even if it’s squishy?” You asked tentatively, “Even if it’s- ah- AH!”
Your head arched back and nearly slammed into the stone behind you as he clamped his teeth into the side of your stomach. Johnny’s perfect teeth clamped down into your skin, suckling harshly against it. Pleasure ebbed in your core through your belly button as he held his hungry touch there. Only once he came up for breath, just to do the same to the other side. Your eyes scrunched shut at the overwhelming sensation of his teeth sucking onto you. It was nearly vampiric at your inner thighs where the sensations became nearly painful. You began to pant at the sensation, his grip nowhere near letting you go. And that son of a bitch had the audacity to smile the entire time, knowing he could make you feel this way.
“Johnny….” You whimpered, “Johnny it hurts a little.”
“I can’t help it, gorgeous.” Johnny said as he sealed each mark with a kiss, “These are my thank you notes to your body. I love your thighs, baby. You’re proof of being soft and strong. I want it, every second of it. It took everything in me not to fuck you under that blanket when you sat on my lap…”
He finished trailing his kisses down to your feet, where he knelt at your feet. He may as well have been kissing the ground you walked on.
As he rose to meet you again, you finally got a chance to rip that button down off, caressing his bare chest. Your thumbs traced a single long scar on his abdomen.
“What’s this?” You asked sweetly.
“A story for another time.” Johnny answered, unbuckling his belt, “This night’s all about you, y/n.”
You ignored his request anyways, pressing a single kiss to it. His skin ran hot with desire. Your eyes focused on the strained cock inside his jeans. Another thing you noticed was the condom wrapper that poked out of his pocket. You quickly pulled down his pants and freed him from his briefs, making him sigh in relief. His tip was bordering purple from desperation, leaking slick precum. The shaft was long and stiff as you pumped him in your hands. He sighed softly in relief and brushed his hands through your hair.
“I’ll put it on, don’t worry.” he reassured you.
“How do you want me?” you asked coyly, crawling on all fours to the blanket, looking back once. You laid back on the blanket, spreading your legs wide. Johnny bit his swollen lower lip as he pumped himself in one hand to secure the rubber.
“Turn around for me like you did....” He commanded with a motioning fingertip, “Like you did on all fours. I want to praise the back of you as well, y/n.”
This position was new for you. There was a tremble in his voice like he was seconds from cumming his brains out. You couldn’t refuse him that, not if he was hell bent on worshiping you. You nodded, rising to support yourself on your hands and knees. It wasn’t long that he made his way behind you, pressing a single kiss to the center of your spine.
“This is new for me.” You admitted, “If it’s too much, I’ll let you know.”
“And I’ll make sure to listen.” Johnny’s breath fanned against the skin of your backside. Seconds passed as he brushed the tip of his penis against your clit, dragging it down your entrance. Your fingers dug into the blanket at the coaxing touches. Impatiently, you pressed your hips back against him.
“Sorry,” He chuckled, “I can’t help it. You look so fucking pretty like this.”
Johnny started slowly inserting himself inside of you. You stuttered, breathing deeply as he pushed deeper into you in one slow drag, your pussy so wet that he went in with a low squelch. Your eyes shut as he filled you. He was so thick, stretching you tenderly as he held still, letting your body acclimate to him.
“That’s it.” Johnny whispered, “That was so good, baby, you’re taking every inch of me. You feel….” There was a roughness to his voice, “S-so good. You’re so wet for me, y/n. You can relax with me, remember? Relax that stomach of yours, it’ll help you.”
You let your stomach go slack, as he rubbed it softly. He groaned, rubbing your free stomach with a careful hand. You sighed in relief as the previous tension melted from your pelvic floor.
“Isn’t that better?” he hummed, “You’re doing so good for me. Thank you, gorgeous. You’re already so tight for me.”
He thanked you with slow circles on your clit, making you moan.
“Let it out, baby.” Johnny encouraged you, stroking you slowly. The tides beyond were loud enough to block out your groans. A pleasurable sensation began to shudder deep inside of you, as his length rubbed against a spot that made you see stars. You hated not being able to see him, but feeling him all around you was near relief. Johnny gripped onto your hips, moving them under his hands.
“How’s this?” He asked breathlessly, “Is this okay, baby?”
It was getting harder to speak, as he increased his pace inside of you.
“It’s perfect… Baby, you’re so good.” You whimpered, “I want more. You can… you can go-”
He pressed himself deeper in you. You let out a cry at the sensation of him filling you entirely, unable to comprehend that he was only halfway in before.
“Keep moving your hips like that.” Johnny growled, “Show me how you put them to work on me.”
You hadn’t realized how you were grinding on him. You let your hips roll back into his, as easy as the tide. You looked back to see Johnny’s half lidded eyes smile warmly at you. His hair was slowly coming undone, the salt slowly making his hair curl on end. His face was flushed, more than he was when he was drinking earlier. A firm, flat hand slapped your bare ass, making you yelp.
“Don’t try and distract me.” Johnny chuckled, “Baby, I’m trying to get you to cum first…”
He pushed deep into you again, making you squirm into submission.
“You can go harder now if you want to.” You uttered, trying to stifle the moans out of your mouth in saying this, “It’s okay if you want to be rough. I-I’ll-”
Johnny’s hand wrapped around your hair and pulled you back towards him. You gasped, shutting your eyes tightly.
“Is that what YOU want?” Johnny asked in a darker tone.
“... Yes.” You stammered, whimpering, “Please, Johnny.”
He shuddered as if he was going to bust at the sound of his name on your lips.
“Good girl.” Johnny praised, “I’ll do that for you, only when you ask.”
Johnny gripped onto you tightly by your waist, leaning forward above your back. He began a brutal pace against the most sensitive parts within you, thrusting against you hard. You let out a stifled cry, backing yourself into his perfect hips.
“Now let me hear it.” Johnny growled in your ear, “I know you need to let it out, how good am I?”
You let out a pleasured sob as he pounded into you, holding you tightly. Every nerve was running hot within you, as he braced against your back. Johnny kissed and lapped at your open back, whispering praises and your name as you continued to lose yourself on his dick. He smiled against your skin, running his tongue across your skin. Your fingers gripped down onto the blanket, stirring up the sand beneath you both. Your cries were growing louder with each stroke, as he rested his head against your back to hear your racing heart.
“Don’t stop!” You begged as if you were begging for your life, “Please, Johnny!”
“You sound so beautiful like this…” Johnny hummed, “Come undone, I’m waiting for you…”
Johnny panted against your back, leaning to press his lips against where your back rolls were. He pumped even faster now, at the pace you loved. Your orgasm was inbound, and erupted the second you felt Johnny’s teeth on your back rolls.
Johnny groaned loudly as he bit the right side of your upper back, where your roll sat pretty. He suckled on your skin with enough pressure to create a bruise. You came loudly, seeing a violent color behind your eyes. You lost control of your body at the explosive pleasure within you, bucking your hips back in response. The screams coming out of you were unholy, as Johnny held you in it, bending you against the sand. He kept going, extending your pleasure to overstimulation as he finished inside of you. Johnny’s choked moan was the sweetest sound in your ear as he came, his hips stuttering. His dick twitched inside of you, as you wondered the stability of his condom with how much he came inside of you. You looked over your shoulder to see him breathless. His mouth was open, eyes squinted shut as he had you.
You both flopped face first into the sand, stacked on top of each other for a moment. The only sound then had come from you both, panting to catch your breath. There was no other glow from Bodhi’s general direction, which made you assume they had all gone to bed. You let out a ragged noise, feeling your body slump in the afterglow. He was so still over you, you wondered if he was asleep.
“Johnny, are you ok?” Your voice rasped.
Johnny let out an unexpected laugh. You tilted your head to look back at him, sinking slowly into the blanket from his weight on top of you.
“What’s so funny?” You asked with a scowl.
He giggled then more, “I’m sorry, I just-” His laughter was dizzy with glee, as he picked his head up to look at you. The man was gone, lost in you, as his hair was pressed up against his forehead. He was covered in a veil of sweat, eyes half asleep. You laughed at his love fucked face, as he kissed you.
“I’m sorry, it happens to me sometimes when I’ve had a lot of fun.” Johnny spoke sweetly, “You are incredible, y/n…”
“Dear god, so are you.” You smiled warmly.
“Here, let me not crush you-” Johnny placed one last kiss on your back before removing himself completely. The brutal sensation of him leaving you made you whimper, as Johnny stumbled back. He huffed a breath.
“Jesus, you didn’t want me to go!” Johnny laughed as he fell back in the sand beside you. Your body was limp from exhaustion, as you moved just enough to curl in his arms.
“Oh, ok.” Johnny whispered playfully, “Come here, then. I’m here, I miss you already.”
You peppered Johnny’s cheeks with kisses, as he held you close. He kissed you warmly before laying his head back on the sand.
You looked above at the stars, feeling succumbed to their glory despite the smog lingering.
“You know, that’s how I find my way back to my car, when I surf at night. We need to go again…” you muttered sleepily, “What do you think? Can we?”
“Yes, I would,” Johnny sighed, “As long as it’s with you.”
You talked about some things, dancing around a few words that would startle any man after one night together. You hadn’t realized you fell asleep after that, until you woke to the sensation of cold water tickling at your toes.
You sniffled awake, blinded by the early morning sunrise in the distance. Johnny was peacefully asleep in front of you, looking like a lost sailor crashed to shore beside you. It hadn’t been some dream anymore! You watched him closely, seeing his breath move in and out of his vast chest. It wasn’t long that he had stirred slowly from his rest. Those thick lashes of his fluttered open, as he looked at you warmly.
“Hi, baby.” you whispered, “Good morning.”
For two seconds, he was soft with delight at the sight of you. And then reality hit. He slowly noted his surroundings, snapping awake.
“Shit….” He stammered, “Shhhhiiit….”
He looked around, then marveled at you, “Shit!”
“What?” You flinched. Johnny flopped back on the sand, laughing.
“SHIT!” he cackled, shaking his head and burying his face. You laughed loudly with him, hugging him tight. You realized work was waiting for you too. You were both screwed, but you didn’t care, even as he stumbled back into his button down and blue jeans. Johnny’s lips spammed you with tender kisses, as he whispered apologies and promises to see you again.
“Just go, then!” you laughed, “Don’t worry about me!”
“But I will though.” Johnny groaned, “I can’t leave my pretty girl alone-”
“Well come on, then!” You laughed, throwing on your dress, “Here, here! Your shoes!”
You stumbled up the sands and raced to your cars, making a game of the inevitable. As you ducked down away from Bodhi’s sight, Johnny kissed you deeply one last time, enough to make it rattle in your bones.
“I’ll see you later, then?” You asked sweetly, “Come meet me later.”
“I will.” Johnny promised, “Be careful out here, ok?”
You reached for the top button on his shirt, and fixed it. Johnny clicked his tongue and widened his eyes.
“Baby, please!” He said in a rushed tone. You brushed his face, kissing him slowly one last time. He was haughty now, antsy with something more demanding than you could ever comprehend.
“You are beyond fiction, Johnny.” you whispered, “Come back to me in one piece.”
He took it lightly and kissed you quickly before rushing down the cul-de-sac in his car. But deep down, you meant it. You recognized the outline of the glock in his back pocket as he pulled on his pants, something clean and unmarked. You usually don't see ones like that in Bodhi’s circles. As you soared down the highway towards home, your eyes scanned the waves. You remembered your rash guard was at home, but a bikini was still in your back seat.
Maybe it was time to show everyone just exactly what Johnny had for you.
Warnings: NSFW! Mature themes, alcohol usage, dubious bisexual activities, risky activity under the influence, insinuations of a threesome, vouverism, a touch of predator x prey dynamics, degradation, humiliation, reader is a hot mess express, cussing, all the good good. I did my best with mild Russian translations- native speakers, let me know what needs to be fixed if there is any I will do so. I loved Heated Rivalry and I loved them too much... It's been a long while, so enjoy. <3
Synopsis: You were in for yet another lonely night at the club, until two particular gorgeous people caught your eye across the bar... It appears that Ilya Rozanov isn't the only one good at being on thin ice. To see if you have what it takes to be between them, Ilya and Svetlana put you to the test. Who knows where the evening will land you, either going gold in their arms, or turning tail to home.
Tonight, the club’s air was thick with sweat and the perfume of mixed drinks, nearly suffocating you as you nursed a drink at the bar alone. Your shoulders bumped between crowded groups, talking and laughing amongst themselves at separate cycles that were equally grating on the crumb of patience you had left. Many were high off the recent victory for the Boston Raiders, as you were. But there were few in successfully seducing a member of that team.
You stared at the shimmering purple, pink, and blue hues reflected in your drink. It stopped tasting sweet five minutes ago, and only burned you more. And yet, you forced yourself to drink it. You had tried being in the club alone for two hours now, and no one seemed to want a thing to do with you. You danced, you smiled, you offered a drink. Many seemed to only give half answers before wandering off. If it wasn’t to that extreme, it was the lesser desired- one that seemed to grip onto you on the floor as if life was fleeting away from them, a submission you did not yet wish to leave to fate.
The drink leadened in your throat as you swallowed the last bit. It was truly diabolical. The time on your phone read 10:30. It was pathetic to leave so early, and yet, the idea of nursing a bottle alone was less shameful.
At least, until you noticed you had an audience.
At a booth to the right of you, above a sea of people grinding to the music blasting in your ears, you spotted two beautiful faces under brightly colored strobes.
The man was the first to catch your eyes. His gaze pierced your soul, and may as well have ripped off your clothes at the start. Their color was unreadable by this distance, but his features were so chiseled you swore he was a gorgeous sculpture, brought back alive once more from Medusa’s gaze. He tilted his head softly, cold and calculated as he began to study you. Suddenly, it had seemed you could be wearing a red flag, and only a red flag for clothing and no one would notice. But when he looked at you, it felt like his gaze could find you as easily as a crack in the sidewalk. There was a perfectly placed mole by his plush, pouty lips. The man took a slow sip of his drink as he continued watching you. His expression was unreadable, and it irked you. He then looked away, palming a golden necklace resting at the perfect nook between his chest. You brought a shaking hand up to take the last dregs of your drink. He was so gorgeous that you forgot to look away. When he looked away, you caught a perfect outline of his beautiful profile. He certainly was carved from marble. There was no way a man could be so beautiful, not here, despite the familiarity of his outline. You had seen it somewhere before, on television. Where and when was unfamiliar to you.
And the second pair of eyes belonged to a much sweeter counterpart.
Her expression carried similar countenance to her male companion, but had the ghost of an approving smile across her full lips. There was a halo of red curls framing her narrow face. She batted her large brown eyes in your general direction, as she leaned forward in interest at you. Her slender body was fashioned in a glittery black thing- the kind of pretty shit you see running for thousands based on the quality of glitter. There was so much glitter, you began to wonder if it were diamonds. She exuded a playful, but regal nature of a mischievous princess. You began to feel suddenly so aware of the lycra blend hugging your body, suddenly feeling conscious in the presence of royalty. She nudged her companion’s shoulder, urging him to look your way again. Your bisexual heart began to flutter in your chest as they both looked at you more intently.
There was a quickening in your pulse rate that was hard to differentiate if it was desire or your urge to run. They looked at you like starving lions, seeing you as a sacrifice. And maybe then, you would be more than willing to be David and cast yourself in their den. A growing smile across the young woman’s face made you wonder if there was any chance you’d survive by sunrise.
You sucked in a nervous breath, looking over your shoulder. There wasn’t a chance in hell that someone in fact, liked your vibe from across the bar. You met their gaze again. They did not waver, but only broke when you cartoonishly pointed to yourself and mouthed the word, “Me?”
The girl laughed so loud you swore it broke over the music. The man bit back a laugh and looked away, as she cackled with glee. Suddenly you felt very, very unwell. Not only did the prettiest people in the club stare at you, they were looking at you and laughing. You began to dig deeply in your purse for your credit card, feeling the crimson burn of shame boil over the surface in your cheeks. This wasn’t something you had experienced since high school, after years of being asked out as a joke. You were in shock that such grown adults would be willing to fall into those habits. And like an idiot, you dropped your house keys on the club floor. The keys were quickly swept into the crowd beneath heels and sneakers. In a panic, you stopped everything to dig for them, bending forward in your short dress to find them.
A single foot enclosed in a strappy heel had caught them, keeping them safe.
The sweet fragrance of chantilly cream rolled off her delicate skin. Her toes shimmered with a black and gold hue, blazing brighter than the lights above.
“Oh, gorgeous, are you looking for this?”
You looked up to find that beautiful girl standing over you like a goddess. You were frozen, slack jawed at the sight of her.
“Yes, thank you…” speaking felt alien to you, as the air in your lungs felt knocked out of you. You slowly reached for the keys, struggling to stand up without falling into her, “I was actually going to-”
She offered a hand to you, helping you stand on your feet.
She leaned into you, whispering in your ear as if she knew you forever, “Zaika, don’t forget about that pretty dress…”
You hadn’t realized your dress was practically showing your thong underneath. You laughed then, an obnoxious sound in comparison to her sweet, bright voice. She was standing in front of you, giving you just enough coverage to pull your dress down.
“Oh, thank you.” You laughed absurdly, pulling the dreaded thing down over your wide hips, “Thank you. I’m sorry, as I was saying, I was just going to leave-”
“Leave?!” The girl looked at you wide eyed, “Oh no, no! You can’t yet. It’s too early for you to leave alone.”
The shame was still burning in your face, giving you that urge to run. You looked over her shoulder to see her male companion looking indifferent, down at his boner beneath the table.
“I don’t feel comfortable being someone else’s sole entertainment for the night.” You spoke cooly initially, “And I would prefer to be left alone.”
She reacted with a playful jaw drop, and looked back at her pretty friend. His indifference was giving you whiplash, as he tried not to laugh again.
“You poor thing, you thought we were laughing at you?” She pouted and checked her friend, “Don’t you worry about him. He’s in his own world right now. In fact, here, let me apologize for our behavior, that was never our intention.”
She meant it, certainly. But he didn’t. He was laughing at you now, a lazy smile gracing his face. You wanted to throw up over her pretty red bottom shoes at the sensation. And yet the humiliation made your core tingle. She rested her hair against yours and observed him at the same time.
“Let me make it up to you, Zaika.” She spoke closely to you again. It was that Russian accent that stood out to you so sweetly, “Come have a drink with me, or a few. Pretty please? We can have so much fun together… And besides, he’s just SO boring tonight.”
She emphasized the O sound of “so boring” with widened lips, directly speaking to her friend. He rolled his eyes and waved her off, nursing his drink.
“And here’s the party trick.” She flashed me something small and metallic, “He doesn’t know I have his card yet.”
You gasped slowly, shoving the card back behind her so he didn’t notice. She giggled, the sound sweet in your ears. You began to melt, wanting to hear more of it.
“Who are you?” You asked in an ironic tone, waiting for the second your alarm clock would go off, and that this was all just some dream.
“I’m Svetlana, darling.” she introduced and ushered you back to the bar, “And you?”
“Y/N!” you smiled, “What are you drinking?”
She checked for her friend to see if he was watching, “That’s Ilya over there, by the way…” She then proceeded to make a motion to the bartender, who seemed to automatically know what she wanted.
“Ilya…” The name felt pretty in your mouth, swirling under your tongue like sweet wine without the hangover, “As in Ilya Rozanov?”
She beamed with pride, “How do you know him?”
“Know him?” You shuddered, “I see him in the papers, on tv and such– oh, what the hell?”
A crisp bottle of vodka with colorful shot glasses were left for you. There was a layer of frost over the pretty crystal bottle, making your stomach drop. You didn’t want to assume vodka was always the drink of choice, but the idea of it straight frightened you so.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Svetlana motioned, “Go first!”
The music was getting louder, the bass buzzing in your core. She waited in anticipation, as you stared at the shots before you in fear.
“Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.” you laughed, “I haven't done straight shots of this before.”
“You’re just a scared little thing, aren’t you?” Svetlana teased, “Zaika means little bunny. You look so scared, afraid to take your medicine.”
Somehow the teasing just made you all the more enthralled by her. You smiled and looked down at your feet, before leaning into her.
“Well, when I take medicine, I like having something sweet after to help with the taste.” you said sheepishly, “So bear with me!”
Svetlana laughed softly at your response, picking up a lime in one hand with a full shot in the other, “So come here then, big baby! Drink it, drink it, drink! …Aww, there you go, good girl!”
You downed the shot like a champ, looking at her the whole time, anticipating the burn. But by some happy surprise, the sensation of the vodka went down your throat as sweetly as her praise in your ears. Your head began to feel fuzzy at her voice, one that warmed the heat rising in your breast at the drink. Before you could say more, her lips pressed into yours. There was a lime wedge between her perfect teeth, with its fruit planting between your lips. You giggled profusely at the sensation, accepting its tart pulp into your mouth. An eruption of cheers and laughter echoed around you both.
You folded immediately, letting the lime fall from your lips. Svetlana clapped at you, soon taking her shot.
“It didn’t even need it.” You stammered, already feeling the shot float through your system.”
“See, there’s nothing to be afraid of!” Svetlana reassured me. She had downed the vodka like water, “And we don’t bite either.”
She nudged you then, ushering your turn to take another shot. You looked back to Ilya, who was watching you both again. There was a waiter beside him, one that he had held up a hand to to pause a conversation. It was then that you both realized he knew that Svetlana had his card, and he was pissed.
Now you had to take another shot, just to show him that you could. You were braver now, downing the second shot without hesitation while you looked him in the eye. Then a third, without thinking. Ilya’s eyes widened slightly, as you responded with an ear to ear grin and two thumbs up. His brows arched upwards in shock. Svetlana giggled and grabbed your hand quickly.
“He knows!” Svetlana panicked playfully, “Let’s go dance before he gets us!”
You followed her without looking back at Ilya in the booth, disappearing into the crowd.
Svetlana’s lively hair bounced with each stride, as she looked back at you. You slowed your timid sprint into a strut to the beat of the song that came on, slowly easing your steps. You walked with your hips first, tossing your hair back to impress her. Svetlana flashed a wicked look in her eyes at you, curling her pretty manicured finger at you to lure you in closer. The vodka was doing her work well in your blood stream, making your dance moves more fluid with each beat. In your little corner of the dance floor, Svetlana pulled you by the waist and began to sway on beat, matching your energy. You began to sway in tandem to her.
Letting loose around this girl felt freeing, finally. You began belting out a Rihanna song together, turning around and backing your butt into her. You began to dance and grind on each other, forgetting your sense of direction and spatial awareness. Finally, it felt like someone liked to have some fun. The music had finally shifted, waking the club up. The vodka was growing stronger with each second, but Sveltana had kept you centered. Dancing close to her was more delightful than any buzz that alcohol gave you.
“Don’t look now.” Svetlana had whispered in your ear, as she held you close. There was a flutter in your core again as she held you close, one that rose quickly to your tits and burned in your ears, “But I think he wants to join us…”
You looked anyway, finding him standing up from the safety of his booth. Ilya’s unflinching gaze was softened with amusement at the sight of you both, pretty and sweaty all over each other. He began removing the jacket off of his athletic body, revealing the crisp white shirt underneath. His necklace caught the light, shimmering against his pale skin. The sight of him made you break into a feral laugh of delight, anticipating what would happen. His eyes were stern still, but bright, nearly smiling.
You whispered back in Svetlana’s ear, “Let’s show him how he should be treating us.”
The vodka made you confident, as you grabbed Svetlana by her ass to bring her into your space. Svetlana let out a small cry of delight, as you ground your hips into hers. The feeling of it was electric, as you closed your eyes. You could feel her heartbeat pressed against your breasts. Each vein in your body began to vibrate from excitement, as you twirled her around, before bending her over in front of you for the big finish. You gracefully pulled her back up into you, nearly collapsing as she looked back upon you in approval.
And funnily enough, it worked. Ilya began to walk quickly towards you both, parting the crowd like a stray rip curl during high tide.
Suddenly you had forgotten how to catch your breath. He was direct in his steps, holding his head high in a princely manner.
“He’s going to get us.” You said, “Svetlan-”
And just as quickly as she made your heart soar, Svetlana disappeared into thin air, like a beautiful ghost. Your stomach dropped into your clitoris, as you began to panic. The idea of facing Ilya alone made you vulnerable. You began to look around the club, finding yourself swallowed by another group of girls. That is, until a firm hand grabbed onto yours, twirling you directly into the chest of Ilya himself. A rush welled in your breast, making your knees buckle inwards on themselves. You braced to fall, holding a hand above your head. He caught you by a respectful, and equally firm hand on the small of your waist.
“Oh, Zaika, oh no!” Ilya cooed with a dark chuckle, “It’s okay, you won't fall. I’m here.”
Adrenaline and desire made you limp in his arms, as he carefully placed you on your feet, as if you were made of glass. You swallowed, whimpering as his firm grip did not falter on you. Ilya’s plush lips pursed together as he tutted at you, tilting his head.
“Not so fast, little thief.” Ilya commanded, “You were so brave a minute ago. You have something of mine.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You blurted warily, as warily as you could when tipsy, “I am innocent and you can prove it!”
Ilya huffed, pursing his lips. He reached for your hand, which was still held above your head for some absurd reason. There was something metallic you hadn’t paid attention to, one that was tucked between your numbed fingertips.
“That’s not mine.” You hiccuped.
“Clearly.” Ilya frowned, “It’s mine.”
Ilya swiped his card from your delicate hand, sternly motioning to the card. A cold chill came over your shoulders as you began to babble. You didn’t remember half of what you said, as you begged and pleaded for forgiveness. He wasn’t buying any of it, and yet he was completely engrossed by your pleas.
“It isn’t what it looks like, I swear!” you stammered, “And, and I made a friend, your friend exactly, Svetlana. She felt so sorry that I thought you were both laughing at me-”
“And we were.” Ilya quipped.
You began to blush again, “Now, I don’t think you mean that. What did I ever do?”
“You are, what Americans say are… Low hanging fruit.” Ilya teased with a flash of his canines in his tender smile. He was slowly swaying with you. His hips began to guide you, as he slowed you down, “And low hanging fruit is just the sweetest…”
He carefully fixed a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes, and looked at you. He really looked at you, with the careful eye of an artist observing his most profound work. As much as his teasing made you want to melt into a puddle, the fear of being outed by security was scaring you near sober.
“And you’re mean!” You retorted, “With your bad attitude and laughing at me! You’re just jealous that Svetlana was with me and not you!”
“And Svetlana, what happened to her?” Ilya prodded with another question, “Be a good girl and tell me the truth.”
“You see-” You began to say.
A loud, comically exaggerated gasp saved you from your statement. Svetlana gawked, wide eyed as she saw you both.
“Oh my god, Ilya!” She cried, “You found your credit card! Y/N, you found it! It’s a miracle!”
She pulled you into a hug and feigned exuberant gratitude.
“Thank you, Y/N!” Svetlana cried, “Ilya, this is my new friend we were talking about earlier… And we tried so hard to find it. She’s a hero, just for that!”
Her arm was protectively wrapped around your shoulders, "Because Y/N was such a good friend to help, she deserves a reward! Right, Y/N? And look at her Ilya, please give her the reward she deserves! Can she stay with us all night?”
She spoke of this idea as if she was begging for a puppy, with you being the puppy on a leash for them to drag about. Between Ilya’s coldness and her mischief, it would have given sober you a headache. Tipsy you was enthralled by it. There was a fine line between trouble with the law and trouble with both pretty faces. As you rolled your shoulders back, you batted your eyes innocently, playing along.
“She’s right, you know.” You said , smoothing a non-existent crease in his shirt collar, “I’m sorry for causing any trouble… I was trying to say what she did, but you made it so hard to use my words.”
He was melting slowly, as you smiled up at him, “Please?”
Ilya shook his head incredulously. It was a painfully obvious lie. You were innocent in all of this, low hanging fruit or not. Svetlana rested her chin on your shoulder, looking up at him.
“Please?” She asked in a softer tone.
Ilya clicked his teeth and shook his head, “Blaat, enough with those eyes, both of you!” He huffed, leaning into you closely, “Zaika, I’ll let you off easy this time… Thank you, I mean. For returning what is so important to me.”
He wrapped his arms around both you and Svetlana, lazily leading you back to the bar.
“You deserve a reward for your help tonight, Y/N.” Ilya hummed, “But we’re putting you to the test, if you can handle it.”
He smelled of expensive musk and hair gel, as he confidently walked with you. Upon instinct, you began to rest your head on his shoulder.
“You must stay awake for this, Zaika.” Ilya patted your face playfully, “Svetlana, make sure she focuses, da?”
Svetlana nodded proudly, “You heard him.”
His voice was thick with an equally gorgeous Russian accent, which held such power over you already. He didn’t smile, but his eyes shone with bright amusement as you followed him about like a lost little puppy. As far as you knew, that’s how these two gorgeous people saw you. It didn’t help that you wanted to take a bite of his necklace.
The way Ilya talked to you so sternly made you feel weak immediately. You opened your eyes a little wider and nodded like a fool, to really prove to him that you were listening. He seemed to delight in your eagerness, as did Sveltana.
Ilya rested back against the bar, motioning to the bar tender for something different. The bartender looked at him, coming closer. He whispered something quickly to the attendant, who rushed around the corner.
“I like playing games…” Ilya boasted, “I like winning too, actually. I’ve won many recently, as you may know.”
Svetlana cozied up beside you, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Oh, I know.” you chimed playfully, “And you’re an excellent team leader!”
Ilya smiled as he pursed your lips shut with a single grasp around your mouth.
“And flattery never gets anyone anywhere to win.” Ilya mocked you.
Svetlana side-eyed you with a coquettish giggle. You half smiled, as much as you mustered under squished lips.
“It was worth a shot…”
Ilya let you go, making you nearly fall forward again. The bartender returned then with eight shot glasses in total on two separate trays. Each shot was a dark liquid topped with dollops of whipped cream. Ilya pulled you and Svetlana closer by your rears, marveling at the treats he ordered for you.
“You fucker!” Svetlana guffawed with a knowing smile.
Ilya ignored her comment and proceeded to speak, “Before you are four shots each,” Ilya instructed, “You have one minute to down them all-”
“Oh!” You beamed, “Oh wait! I can do that easily.”
“Without using your hands.” Ilya commanded with a smug look on his face.
Svetlana jeered at him, rolling back her shoulders. A crowd had formed around us three at his hijinx.
“The winner of this game receives a kiss from me.” Ilya touted playfully, “And the loser must pay… With their OWN card.”
Svetlana braced a sheepish smile and leaned over at you whispering, “He’s talking to you, not me!”
“I- girl.” you stammered.
“Enough with the chit-chat!” Ilya barked, “Bartender, start the timer on my signal!”
You took a deep breath, reluctantly placing your arms behind your back. You bent forward in front of Ilya. Sveltana bent forward beside you, smiling at you.
“May the best one win!” Sveltana chirped.
“Likewise…” You tried to muster some attitude, but faltered.
After a painful amount of fallen conversation, Ilya’s voice finally snapped over the speakers.
“Nachinat’!” Iyla’s voice was brash, making you flinch.
A foot tapped at the back of your knee, making you buckle forward into one shot. The shot glass clinked. You sputtered, whipped cream falling in your nose.
There was a boisterous explosion of laughter behind you. You knelt forward, lapping up what you could. Ilya laughed, a shuddering sound that would haunt you in your time alone. In a panic, you moved quickly to the next shot, wrapping your mouth perfectly around the rim. You downed the first one, throwing your head back to force it down your throat. The burn of the amaretto was familiar and sweet. You let the shot glass fall back down, as you moved to the next one. There was even louder encouragement for Svetlana, who was already halfway through hers. You fought for your life, clearing the third shot. But by the time you were about to reach the final, Svetlana was already done.
Sveltana threw her hands up and cheered loudly, basking in the victory of your audience's approval. The back of your leg still hurt a smidge, and you knew it was from her, but you couldn’t prove it. And besides, your only referee to witness the fault was delighted at the sight before him, clapping excitedly.
You shook your head in embarrassment as you clapped.
"Here's our first winner, everyone!” Ilya said proudly, “C’mere, gimme kiss…”
Your body grew hot at the sensation of seeing them kiss. Ilya pressed his lips to hers, kissing Sveltana deeply. She hummed into his lips, pressing her hands onto either side of his face. You wanted to cry then and there, but a bet was a bet. You handed your OWN credit card to the bartender, who nodded at you with sympathy. Sveltana soon pulled away, laughed and hugged you tightly.
“Aww Zaika, don’t cry, you’ll get it next time!” Svetlana comforted you warmly, “Poor baby, it’s okay!”
“Mmmno.” you muttered, burying your face into her. It was hard to stay so angry, “You cheated. And you’re pretty and mean.”
Ilya patted your shoulder, “It’s okay. This is one of three trials, malyska. Now that Svetlana has won, she chooses the next game.”
Svetlana blew a raspberry, seemingly stuck with trying to come up with an idea, "Actually.. I need to use the restroom, excuse me!”
You and Ilya exchanged knowing glances. He was humored at your annoyance, as you pouted before him. Svetlana brushed your cheek with her manicured hand and walked away quickly.
“.... She cheated.” you pouted.
Ilya nudged your arm with his, “She was following the rules. I never said you couldn't do that.”
You rolled your eyes, “Granted how both of y’all act, it seems like the rules don’t apply to you.”
“You’re so maaaaaaad.” Ilya mocked you, taking pity on you with playful mannerisms, “Come on, you’re doing so well. Don’t lose hope yet. Here-”
Ilya placed a quick kiss on your cheek, a cartoonish smack buzzing against your skin. You flinched as he tried to pull you close, as he placed another on your other cheek.
“Mwah!” Ilya mimed, “There, just because you’re such a good little sport. Don’t tell Svetlana though, or I’ll deny it.”
You smiled slowly at him, twisting your body around and cheesing.
“There it is….” Ilya praised, “You have a pretty smile. I want to see it more, okay? No more sore loser.”
Ilya imitated your scowled brow, tracing a finger down his beautiful cheekbone, miming your frown. You couldn’t feign bitterness around him, just for that. He lightly pinched your other cheek, making you smile even more.
“Yes, baby, I will for you…” you beamed excitedly, “I promise!”
Svetlana approached you both with a roughish strut. She smiled with her head high, as she leaned into you both.
“Ready, you two?” She asked once, picking a cherry off the bartender’s fresh stock.
You nodded eagerly, nudging Ilya playfully. Olya nudged back and nearly knocked you on your ass.
She pulled you both in and whispered to you, her voice now a register lower and a little more husky, “Notice anything different?”
She motioned down to herself. You began to scan her carefully, tracing for anything that stood out to you. She still had that gorgeous little dress on, her hair was retouched, and her makeup was somehow still intact after all your activities. There was, however, a tiny dash of cream at the crease of her lip.
“A little lower….” Svetlana hinted down to her dress. You were too distracted by her legs.
Ilya’ pupils dilated with desire as he observed, “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
Because of course he knew, and you didn’t!
“Fucker!” you seethed, looking down between her legs. It was too damn dark to tell.
“Correct!” Svetlana praised, “I’ve removed them, and-” Svetlana snickered at you, “Hold on, Y/N, fix your face!”
You sucked a deep breath in. It was a shock to your system and breaking something reasonable and rational in your mind. You barely knew this gorgeous girl and she’s just letting her labia out in the club breeze without care. What kind of underwear was she wearing? Was it something as pretty as her? For all you knew it could’ve been from a five pack of cottons from Walmart down the street. It was depraved, it was nasty, but incredibly arousing for you. Or was this another trick? A thin veil of sweat had formed over your brow, as you nodded.
“Sorry, please keep going.” you nearly whimpered.
“You have five minutes to find them in the club.” Svetlana instructed, “And once you find them, you must race back to me at our booth…. And Y/N, they won’t mind you over there, either.”
Ilya’s face hardened and shifted into a focus of high resoluteness, bordering on predatory. His eyes cut to you, as a smile that did not meet his eyes bore something chilling inside of you. He was taller than you, if barely, but this man was an athlete. The only time you ran was yesterday, when a June bug decided it was your last day to stay sane. Ilya’s cheek twitching in his jaw, as he looked at you. The intimidation tactic was working.
“Okay!” You feigned confidence, “So… That’s it? Can we have a hint at least, please?”
Svetlana winked, playfully brushing back your hair. Ilya rolled his eyes, shifting the weight in either leg as if he was ready to bolt any second.
“Only because you asked so nicely, Zaika.” Svetlana purred, “.... The prize to be won is locked East of Eden, guarded by cherubs, up high above, so below.”
You scowled, processing the clue. In your head, you tried to repeat it.
“Now!” Svetlana said, starting a timer on her phone.
“Wait-” you pleaded.
Ilya said nothing and took off like a bullet into the sea of dancers, heading left to the club. At least, you assumed it was East. You squinted, pointing forward.
“Never Eat Soggy-” Your finger found East, which was the direct opposite of Ilya’s direction. Your heart dropped, as you fled in the opposing direction. Thank fuck, the shit you learned in school was useful.
You ran quickly in the direction away from him, ignoring the commotion of Ilya’s voice on the other side of the club. You jumped, sliding past people in groups who were already irked with your antics. Then the alcohol was kicking in, slowing you just enough to make you near stumble again. You met a wall, as you looked above. It was absurd, but the club had two stories. People watched from above in confusion, as you ran your hands along the wall and kept going to the right. And to witness Ilya’s crazy ass trying to climb up into the rafters! Security and stressed employees swarmed him. You began to realize you were no less depraved than he!
Unfortunately for you both, there were no panties to be seen anywhere within the main area. You pilfered through silk plants and empty drinks carelessly left on platters god knows where. The floor was dark, so you used your flashlight to search it, and nothing. As you entered a hallway, there was a security guard who stood at the door of a private lounge, which was closed off by a single red rope.
“Cherub guarding it…?” You swallowed, you had to think quickly. You ran to the security guard, acting as if you had seen a demon in the flesh.
“Excuse me!” You cried to the guard, “There’s a fight at the bar, please, we need your help!”
“Tut….” He scowled, “Sure there is, doll.”
“You must believe me!” You pleaded, “I saw a weird ass dude trying to climb the rafters! Bro has had too much to drink and he’s giving the employees hell!”
You narrowed your gaze over the bulky man, trying to look inside. The room was empty.
“I’m sure they have it in the front.” The man shooed you off, “Go on, now. Restroom’s down the other hall, by the way. Looks like you need it.”
You groaned, running back down the hallway. You knew you were going to lose miserably again, and she never said what the loser’s consequence would be. She probably wanted you to eat her underwear, and point and laugh at you in the process. The idea of Ilya winning made you sick. Before leaving, Ilya shoved past you and landed you nearly into the wall.
“Three minutes, Zaika!” Ilya remembered breathlessly, heading down to the bouncer with a wad of cash in hand. You groaned louder, not even bothering to check again. As you slowed your run into angry stomps into the bathroom, beside the group of girls yelling and your insistent, “I’m washing my fucking hands!” You lost hope quickly.
The women’s bathroom was actually quite soothing to your senses, as you were welcomed by warm hues of chandelier lights. Air conditioning cooled the usually humid air, as you dropped your shoulders. Your brain was vibrating with ideas. She wasn't going to make you climb the rafters, was she? The ceiling fresco was caked in clouds, as you washed your hands with the golden sink.
Angels and divine saints ascended in the fresco above your head, making you question the dubious activities you had participated in so far.
There was a sudden burst of giggles and phones flashing behind you, ones which reflected in the mirror.
“Oh my fucking god, who does that??” a girl toted.
“Oh, fuck yeah…This is so tumblr coded, what the fuck?” Another voice was humored by the sight.
In the mirror reflection, you observed a golden cherub drilled into the wall for decoration, seemingly mistaken for a purse hook. But instead of a purse, you were stunned to find a delicately embroidered golden thong, decorated with swarovski crystals. Above the cherub was a smaller depiction of Adam and Eve being removed from Eden, with the garden east of them in their sorrow.
“Guarded by a cherub, east of EDEN!” You exclaimed, running between the girls who took the photo, “Sorry ladies, I was looking for this!”
“Are they yours?” one laughed.
“Nope!” You yelled heartily, “But you’re a good help! Thank you!”
You bolted as if your life depended on it back down the hallway past a gaggle of restroom goers who seemed concerned at the sight of you. A burning sensation imploded in your calves as you ran, but you pushed forward. The prize was something delicious, surely.
But then Ilya saw you. The quickness of his sudden bolt made you scream, as you fled back into the crowd. He ran with alarming precision, the sound of his breathing becoming louder in your ears as you cut around the dance floor.
“Run rabbit, run, run, run!” Ilya’s voice laughed cruelly. Your stomach churned with a million sensations at once. A dull roar of blood rushed between your legs during the hunt, as he caught up to you. And you were equally terrified of what could possibly happen next. Quickly you looked ahead. A man bent over in your line of running, and you leapt over him. There was an inevitable crash that followed, as he succumbed to Ilya’s trail. Without looking back, you kicked off your heels mid run and climbed over a booth. Despite the yelling, you made sure not to drive your big ass feet into their drinks, at least. Ilya wasn’t calculating on that short cut, as you disappeared once more into the dance floor.
Five steps later, you looked back again to see Ilya trapped behind a cluster of confused people and the injured man. You laughed lightly, as you looked forward to finding Svetlana.
“Holy fuck!” You exclaimed in disbelief.
You checked ahead, hearing Svetlana screaming. Svetlana was beet red with glee, entertained by you both. She cheered loudly for you as you waved the underwear over your head like a flag of victory. This made her laugh even harder, as she reached her arms to you. You had no clue where your shoes were, or Ilya for that matter. Your feet stumbled up the steps to your booth, as you panted loudly. You laughed boisterously, dropping down in the booth with all your weight. She held you closely, sheltering you from the eyes of Ilya, rubbing your back.
“Well done!” Svetlana cheered for you, grabbing her underwear quickly and hugging you.
You laughed breathlessly, nodding, “Yup! I figured it out!”
Svetlana couldn’t stop her beautiful laugh, as she pointed to Ilya, “Ohhh no! Look at the mess!”
You guffawed, as the poor man Ilya ran over wandered out with help of his friends, a mess being quickly cleaned in his wake. He was pouting hard, seemingly missing his wad of cash that was handed to staff to make up for the mistake. In his hand, however, were your shoes carried by a single finger. Ilya scowled, muttering his frustrations in his mother’s tongue.
“Ilya!” You cried, still catching your breath, "Ilya, I’m sorry!! I didn’t think I ran that fast!”
Ilya’s scowl broke only partly so, as he let on he was struggling for breath.
“Where the fuck do you train?” Ilya asked, humored.
“Girl I don’t know.” you uttered, humored by calling a whole man girl, “Adrenaline and Jesus. Y’all basted my shit with liquor!”
“Move.” Ilya ordered, plopping next to you, lifting you off the seat slightly.
“Aww, it’s okay, you did good too!” Svetlana smiled, scooting down so we could too.
A waiter came by with a concerned look on her face.
“Some water, for this little tomato here.” Ilya asked politely, motioning to you.
You puckered your lips in a sympathetic cheek kiss onto his perfectly chiseled face, echoing his exasperated “mwah” from earlier.
“There, there…” Svetlana picked up on your energy, increasing it twice as nicely as she kissed his other cheek.
Ilya smiled down at his lap, painfully obvious in his flustering from your tricks.
He pointed to Svetlana first, “Y/N, she was right… You are a cheat!”
“Me?” Svetlana asked coyly, “Never!”
He then pointed to a giddy, giggling at you, “And YOU are a suck-up. What have I gotten myself into?”
The waiter handed you a comically tall glass of water, holding judgment in his gaze at Ilya and Svetlana at the way they had you. You smiled with gratitude at him, taking a long sip.
“So, since you won, Zaika, you get to pick your prize, what game would you like to play tonight?” Svetlana asked. You felt her foot carefully graze your leg. Her skin was so soft, sending a shiver down your spine. Ilya had leaned back, ensuring you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. His arm had wrapped its way around you.
“Well, you make it certainly hard to leave.” You commented sheepishly, “And I’m sure russian roulette would be too on the nose?”
Svetlana chuckled, “Anything is on the table.”
Ilya, partially annoyed at the notion, rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. The anticipation was killing him slowly. You wished to exploit every second of it.
“Hmmm, I know!” you beamed, “Truth or dare is my choice for the third game!”
Svetlana’s eyes sparkled as she looked to Ilya, “I like that idea, too! What say you, Ilya?”
Ilya raised his brow, “You say as if I have a choice in the matter.”
Svetlana’s hand carefully rested on your thigh, dangerously close to your center. Ilya’s left leg was brushed against yours. You swallowed the flutter inside of you being between them both in that cozy, tiny little booth.
“And the winner goes first!” Svetlana continued, “Y/N, who do you choose as your first victim? I mean, player?”
You looked at Ilya, who was still pouting from earlier. Your calves were on fire still from running, as he fought his hardest to not look at you.
“You have time, Ilya. Because Svetlana, you go first!” you called, “Truth or dare?”
Svetlana’s eyes widened slightly, “And if we choose not to tell the truth or dare….?” She held up her drink.
You nodded with a cheeky smile on your lips, “Answer the question first.”
Ilya’s interest peaked as you rose in your assertive confidence.
“Truth.” Sveltana answered smugly.
“Okay, truth!” You sipped water again, “Were you and Ilya making fun of me earlier?”
“For fucks sake.” Ilya muttered.
Svetlana motioned to Ilya to be quiet, “Mmm! Mmm…” Svetlana sighed, “Yes, we were. And it was rude. I’m sorry, Y/N. I felt sorry seeing you by yourself. That’s why I wanted ....”
She looked you up and down, “I think you’re incredible, actually. You are just so pretty, and funny, and so expressive. I like that about you, and your little ‘Who me?’ was too precious to pass on. You know?”
You wanted to be pissed, but every urge to act on that anger melted at her tenderness. It was true, this was the best night you’ve had in years. You didn’t want it to end.
“Please, she was jealous of your ass.” Ilya commented snidely, “She was amazed that an American girl like you could be so…”
He began to trace the outline of your figure with slow, smooth hands. Svetlana began to swat at him before he made it to your waistline.
“Hey!” Svetlana yelled with a flash of anger contorting her pretty face. Ilya snickered, clearly smug with himself.
“Well, since Svetlana did good, she gets to pick who’s next!” You smiled, ushering her, “Who will it be now?”
“Ilya.” Svetlana nearly barked his name, “Truth or dare?”
“Do I have to?” Ilya whined, “This is boring already!”
“Pretty please?” You asked him, “At least try…”
“The appearance of your invisible ‘pretty’ barely sways me.” Ilya uttered, “You’re still on trial to be with us, so I will go. Dare.”
“I dare you to say something filthy in Y/N’s ear.” Svetlana commanded.
The drink was right in front of him. You turned away to smile at Svetlana, already knowing he’d reach for his vodka. Instead, he grabbed you firmly by your jawline and pulled your ear to his lips.
The fluid, firm sensation of his grip on you made your head fuzzy again. Your lungs grew tighter as a shuddered breath of air rattled in your ear drum. It was then that you realized the fine line of his apparent frustration was more beyond not winning, but something more carnal. Ilya’s strong hands had run from your jawline into your hair, knotting it and tightening in a way that started to ignite in you.
“And as far as yu’re concerned, I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first saw you alone. Chasing you through this fucking place turned me on, Zaika. I loved seeing you run like a scared fucking animal away from me, that’s why we wanted you. I want to hunt you for sport, bend you over this table, and fuck you senseless.”
Your jaw was slack as he said this. Each word was dripping with desperation, making you want to pull down his pants and take him then and there in that booth. It was hard to breathe, as his grip loosened on you. Svetlana was entertained by the scene, giggling. The tent beneath the table was honest for you.
“What did he say?” Svetlana pried.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You teased, gently brushing her ankle with yours, “But he did his job well.”
“I told her the toilet here was clogged.” Ilya replied facetiously.
“Ahaha…” Svetlana was humored, if not mildly jealous, “Now it is your turn. Who’s next on your docket?”
“Y/N.” Ilya answered a little too quickly.
“Yes?” you asked innocently.
“Have you ever been in a threesome?” Ilya asked frankly.
“Oh, ok, truth it is.” You blinked, “And surprisingly, no I haven’t. In the past I’ve been monogamous, with little success.”
“Would you like to?” Svetlana asked near you.
You blinked, trying to process this new information. Instead, you concealed it with charm. Ilya shook his head with a gentle smile in his eyes.
“Silly, it isn’t your turn yet!” You purred, “But since you’re so eager, Svetie… Can I call you that?”
“Whatever you wish, Zaika.” Svetlana hummed, leaning on your shoulder. You looked back to Ilya, smiling.
“She’s ready.”
“I know that.” Ilya mocked your tone, “Svetlana, truth or dare?”
“Dare!” Svetlana nearly burst with excitement.
“Take a body shot off of Y/N.” Ilya demanded, handing you a shot of vodka, “Y/N, pick the area you desire.”
“Why are you roping me into this!” You whined as Svetlana looked you up and down. You panicked, looking down at your own body. The dress was NOT going up. You cursed yourself for the underwear you had on, opting for seamless over sexy on THE worst night. Without hesitation, you placed the shot glass between your tits, which fit cartoonishly perfect in your rack. Svetlana squealed at your placement.
Ilya watched you both incredulously, shaking his head. Svetlana happily leaned into your bosom and took the shot from your breasts. To get back at her earlier, you pressed her pretty face between each tit. Svetlana sputtered, sending vodka up your neck and into your face. She shoved you back, laughing, fighting to keep it from coming out of her nose. You guffawed at it, leaning back into Ilya.
“You’re both a mess.” Ilya mocked, “A perfect waste!”
“Dare you to lick it!” Svetlana laughed, falling back in the seat.
Your eyes widened as Ilya got that look in his again.
“Don’t you dare.” You stammered, “Ilya… ILYA!”
He grabbed you roughly, running his long tongue down your throat, scraping up the leftovers in his mouth. His head of blonde curls bounded forward into your face as he had his last drink for the night. You squirmed, but Svetlana gripped onto your shoulders to keep you still. Your face grew beet red with shame, as you screamed. Ilya lapped at your skin despite no vodka being left. Any further attempts to squirm trapped you deeper into the leather seat, as Svetlana’s hands cupped your tits.
“Guys- there’s people watching-” You stammered, but Svetlana whispered in your other ear and shushed you.
“It’s okay.” She reassured, “Look at them. No one’s looking, and besides-”
She squeezed your tits with her fingertips placed exactly over your erect nipples in your bra. You bit back a moan, squirming further. Ilya exhaled loudly, his warm breath sending goosebumps against your exposed cleavage. He rested against them, looking up at you with lovesick eyes.
“Aren’t you enjoying this sight?” Svetlana asked.
Ilya’s large eyes fluttered up at you with a sensual nature to their intensity. He had licked you clean, your body smelling like them both as they closed in around you. You nodded dimly, as Ilya returned to meet you.
“Then it’s my last turn to choose.” Ilya said.
“Dare.” You panted.
Ilya breathlessly smiled at you, “Maybe you aren’t such a suck up.”
He brushed your cheek with your fingertip, a rewarding scene of intimacy. It was almost innocent, until he whispered in your ear something so stressful that bordered on public disturbance.
And that is how you found yourself, running through the club dance floor naked. You stripped in a dark corner of the booth, while Ilya and Svetlana left for their car. You had one minute to make it to their limousine, where they had everything of yours. And by naked, you are naked. No jewelry, no underwear, no shoes. You were only adorned in the unfiltered beauty of how others perceived you. To some, you looked divine under the lighting, like Lady Godiva had come back to search for the horse to ride on. To the club, you were a menace to never be seen again. And there was no doubt you were sorry, but this is what they deserved for sub-par overpriced drinks. Time stilled around you as you ran towards the exit. A wild streak of feral strength overcame you at the thought of having both Ilya and Svetlana to yourself for one night- the reward was too great, much more in its worth than every Friday in this stuffy club for a year with no one.
The dull roar of blood flow returned to your core from your aching legs once more. You used the last security guard as your spring board, bouncing off of his back to the exit. The flashy caravan of people trying to get in the club still screeched with shock and delight. Ilya’s dark limo rolled to the curb, stopping eerily slow before you. The door was on the verge of opening. Svetlana and Ilya cheered you on from the only open window inside, but the door wouldn’t open in time. Any second sooner security would catch you, and Lord knows what would happen. You had one chance, and you took it. If there was anything to learn from the night with them, it was that. You leapt through the window arms first, bracing for impact as your hips got trapped in the window. Svetlana and Ilya panickedly grabbed your arms in their entertainment and yanked you deeper into the limousine, which screeched off in time before security could take you. Your ankles clumsily plopped into the window, until your naked body was strewn across their laps.
You and Svetlana were breathless, as Ilya was obviously tickled by it all.
You gasped loudly, covering your face. You cou;dn’t even look at either of them, in your most vulnerable state in their laps. Ilya’s hand brushed the sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, as Svetlana dumped his jacket over your body.
“Holy fuck, you actually did that?!” Svetlana guffawed in disbelief.
Ilya sighed through his teeth, smiling still ear to ear. He could barely stand to look at you. You could feel his hardening crotch under your neck, as the world spun around you.
“Hey, I did that for y’all.” You pointed at Ilya directly, “Now say I’m not a suck-up… Say it! Say it, damn it!”
You didn’t take the coverage form Svetlana, posing your body before them both.
“Say it!” You yelled with a wide smile in your mouth.
“You aren’t a suck-up.” Ilya said proudly, “Zaika, you are brave.”
The praise made you giggle with delight, as you rolled back between them, finally accepting Svetlana’s cover.
“I think she’s ready for us.” Svetlana prompted, “She has what it takes.”
Many were high off the recent victory for the Boston Raiders that night, as you were. But there were few in successfully seducing a member of that team. You, however, were. And then some. Svetlana and Ilya placed their hands on your thighs closest to them, still winded from excitement.
“Sure she does.” Ilya kept his tone playful, “But we will wait and see how well she does.”
“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here.” You commanded, before Ilya forcefully placed your head on his strong shoulder.
“Rest, Zaika. You’re going to need it.” Ilya bossed you around. You liked how mean he could be.
Svetlana ran her hand down your sweaty hair, “You did good, now listen.”
She winked, hinting at more mischief to come. And you played along, wondering where the night was going to land you.
Hi everyone! Thank you for reading this piece. I had a very good time in writing this for you guys. Heated Rivalry is such a great show that has changed me for the better. Part 2 will be coming soon!
One year you’re gonna wanna write and life gets so busy and overwhelming it takes a part of your will. And it’s okay. You can’t force that. Your characters wouldn’t want their lives to be that rushed, right? It doesn’t have to be. And then the next year you try and change it, you meet quota after your dearest friend suggests writing 300-600 words a day and not crucify yourself when you can’t. And things start making sense. And you start having fun. And sure the world is burning and fuckass but that’s why you have your art. Even when you’re fighting your cats off the kitchen table in the process, right? And you don’t feel like it’s the end of the world anymore to scrap a part you don’t like because why force something you hate when you can write what you like!!!!!!! DO IT!!!
I may not have all the answers but this is what has freed me.
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter XII. Reverie
Chapter XII. Reverie
Synopsis: A new companion is made for Sabine, strictly for the sake of communication. Evangeline, a new soul who had a choice between death and the Dreaming, even sees something more between her mistress and her creator.
The sound of mourning doves and the fluttering of wings stirred Sabine from her rest, as gentle golden daylight crept through from the edges of her bedroom. She was perfectly splayed out on the sheets, blankets and pillows scattered on the floor. She slowly rose, sitting at the edge of her bed. Oddly enough, she felt more energized. In her apartment, she would spend an extra hour in bed just to rot, but here- here something was recharged within her. She noticed the plumerias from her floating vases had disappeared, and were replaced with light blue hydrangeas- another favorite of hers. She began to wonder if that would change daily, as she walked across the room.
A rolling rattle activated within the wall across from her, as she noticed a fireplace coming to life on the empty wall. It was a graceful thing, carved with two sirens on either side. Waves and strange, medieval looking sea creatures swept across the crest of the hearth. She shook her head.
“He is done for.” She muttered, sitting in front of the toasty fire, “Trying to win my affections to a lifetime in this pretty place. And the gag of it all, it’s fucking working.”
As she curled by the fire, there was a knock to her chamber door. She quickly approached, snatching a fluffier robe that seemed to appear out of thin air on a coat rack. She was five seconds from opening the door when a glass peep hole formed in the starlit surface. She flinched back, to lean in again.
An unmanned handcart appeared on the other side, with a tea pot and sealed food packages on its surface. Of course she wasn’t going to let it get cold, the woman was starving.
As she opened the door, the wooden cart moved past her, nearly running over her toes.
“Hello?” She stammered, trying not to laugh, “What are you?”
The teapot floated on its own, pouring a steaming cup of french sipping chocolate for her, before sliding back down in its proper place. Sabine’s jaw dropped.
“.... Is marriage out of the question?” She remarked to herself, soon reaching for a little tin full of cream.
“I can make myself a bowl of cereal just fine, you know.” She muttered to no one, taking a rather large sip of it out. She melted, tapping her feet against the floor at the rich flavor. And to think it was only the beginning of her time here- an eternity of hot chocolate and invisible wait staff would mean heaven for the rest of her days.
There came a tapping on the glass doors to her balcony. Sabine turned with an upper lip full of chocolate, soon scrubbing it off with the back of her palm. It was Matthew, who waited patiently. And as she opened the door to him, she couldn’t help but to smile and think of Edgar Allen Poe so fondly.
“Morning!” Matthew croaked, “How are you feeling?”
“Good morning, Matthew!” Sabine smiled, “I am feeling just fine now… My cut is nearly healed.”
“Ah, that’s great.” Matthew honked, “I’m glad to see you adjusting. Dream is still on to see you this afternoon and tell me to remind you.”
Sabine rolled her eyes, “Yes, of course. I can’t forget about the Lord of dreams and trying to bribe my affections.”
Matthew opened his beak, but soon shut into a small chuckle, “He genuinely does feel bad to keep you here, you know.”
Sabine crossed her arms, “I know he does. He’s doing so much for me and… Frankly…” She looked back at her beautiful room to see the bed had been made automatically on its own, “I find myself receptive to it. He even gave me my hot chocolate this morning.”
“Oh, that’s not all he’s giving you.” Matthew said in a smug tone, “I’d like to stay and chat, but there’s someone who’s been wanting to meet you!”
“Me?” Sabine inquired, “And just who may that be?”
“Matthew!” A smaller squawk echoed, “Matthew I’m almost here, I’m- Woah!”
There was a crash of white feathers into a portion of Sabine’s moon garden. Her eyes widened slightly, as Matthew let out a groan.
“... Here we go.” He muttered, hopping off the balcony to aid his apprentice.
In the mix of dirt, leaves, and white flowers was a dust ridden albino raven. A female, younger than Matthew, who sneezed dirt out of her beak and coughed.
“Oh, gosh, the dirt here tastes terrible too!” a warm, innocent voice stammered out of her beak, “I thought it would be something magical since this is just a dream realm, but my goodness! It’s just plain old dirt!”
Matthew scoffed in annoyance, his feathers puffing up.
Sabine squatted down and helped the creature out of the mess.
“Well, what did you think it was going to taste like?” Sabine asked curiously.
“I don’t know! Something like oreo dust,” She shrugged her wings softly, “Like those worm cups they make for kids in preschool with gummies in them.”
Matthew plucked a leaf off from the top of her head, sighing.
“And I told you to watch your landings.” Matthew struck an impatient tone, “You’ll bust a bone, and then what will become of you?”
“Have you broken anything?” Sabine asked, sweeping the dirt off of her feathers.
“Oh, no, just my own pride.” The white raven said sheepishly, “Especially in front of you, lady.”
As she flicked the dirt off of her feathers, Matthew nudged her.
“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” Matthew asked, seemingly annoyed by his apprentice.
Sabine only smiled, waiting patiently.
“What’s that?” She squawked, “Oh! Please forgive me, lady-” she cleared her throat, bowing with her wings, “Good morning, my name is Evangeline. I am a raven that was created by Lord Morpheus to be your personal messenger and guide!”
“Hello, Evangeline.” Sabine greeted, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, you’re right, Matthew!” Evangeline beamed, “She is lovely! My name sounds prettier when she says it!”
Sabine laughed softly, letting Evangeline perch on her fingertips, “You’re even lovelier. It’s my great grandmother’s name you have.”
“You don’t say!” Evangline said bashfully, “Well, I’ll tell you this. It wasn’t the name I was born with! You see, I was just like Matthew here-”
Matthew seemed annoyed at this tidbit of information.
“I was human too!” Evangleine’s blue eyes brightened, “And I was a human in the waking world! I was dying one minute, and I remember watching my family over me, and the next I was flying through the air and stars, and I was here! And he let me pick my own name. Oh, I always wanted something pretty and heavenly like Evangeline. My name was so plain before. I’ve never felt freer, so when Lord Morpheus gave me this chance, I had to say yes! I can’t fail him, or you now!”
“Not until you improve your flight patters.” Matthews frowning tone interrupted her, “She will be closer to you in due time, but for now I’m on flight training duties with this one. She will have a more in depth judgment of the Dreaming as a whole for you to reference.”
“That’s amazing.” Sabine said in awe, “Thank you, Matthew. When do you think she will be done with her training?”
“That depends on how far we get today.” Matthew answered.
“I can’t help it.” Evangeline pouted, “I’ve only had these wings for a day, you know.”
“She does make a point.” Sabine said in a reassuring tone. Matthew clicked his beak.
“We should go.” Matthew said, “Lucienne’s sorting books out now whenever you want to head over and visit. She always claims she doesn’t need help, but…”
Sabine nodded, “I know exactly what you mean. She could use the company?”
“Exactly.” Matthew said, “Allright, Evangeline, let’s hop off here.”
“Okay!” Evangaline chirped, “Well, I am so happy to meet you Sabine. I hope my training goes fast so I can see you again soon!”
“You too!” Sabine smiled.
“Oh, I can’t wait to learn.” Evangeline beamed, stepping onto the balcony, “I love it here. Come on Matthew, you promised to show me Fiddler’s Green!”
Matthew shot an irritated look toward Sabine’s way, as Evangeline was the first to fly off.
“You’re having the time of your life, aren’t you?” Sabine remarked.
“She’s green.” Matthew sighed, “And I’m trying to be patient, and it’s incredibly hard.”
“I’m sure it was like that for you too, once.” Sabine reassured, “But you’re doing great. I know it’ll work out.”
“I know, I know.” Matthew groaned, “She’s just got too much energy for me, personally.”
Sabine giggled, “Are you regretting my stay here?”
“... Not even in the slightest.” Matthew said with a smile in his voice, “Hang on, I gotta keep her from crashing into the gargoyles here. They’re not the friendliest.” He checked below him, “Hey! Eva! Keep your distance from there, you’re going to get eaten by one of those damn things!”
Sabine watched as he banked down to help the younger raven, finding more questions than answers in regards to Lord Morpheus.
As she finished sipping chocolate (by some miracle that remained warm) with her croissant, she opened her grandfather’s wardrobe to find it looking shockingly average to the real thing- space spreading horizontally, instead of inwards. A handful of items lined the racks with felt hangers- one being the outfit she escaped the Corinthian in- perfectly washed and pressed, free of bloodshed. The second was her night slip and robe, as she pushed past them, an emerald colored dress ran across her fingertips. The scoop necked thing was plush to the touch. The waist was decorated with a light layer of lace and buttons, cinching exactly at the smallest point of her figure. Small trims of lace framed the three quarter sleeves. She smiled to herself, taking it off the rack. It was one of her original designs from a notebook a year prior. Beneath the dress was a pair of black mary janes, like the ones she missed at home.
As tempted as she was to run off without makeup, a single glance by the mirror convoluted her judgment, as she found her makeup arsenal to be overpowered.
“I could get used to this,” She smiled to herself.
☙
Evangeline dragged her wings away from the window of the mortal woman who was to be her patron. Matthew had begrudgingly steered the young corvid from stone jaws of hungry gargoyles on the southern side of Dream’s palace. In the light, she could swear she saw sweat forming at the top of his beak. The oil spill hues of his feathered coat shone brightly, as they banked to the left in flight together.
“You need to be more careful.” Matthew advised, “I know you might think I’m being a hard ass, but I am for a reason!”
“I’m sorry.” Evangeline faltered shyly, “I just got so excited. Sabine is so pretty, and she’s so nice. She’s like a Disney princess on that balcony.”
“I’ll tell you this, it’s far from disney with those two,” Matthew shrugged off, “This may be the realm of dreams and nightmares. But I’m still trying to piece together why he's keeping her around. And I know there might be something he isn’t owning up to.”
Evangeline looked back at Sabine through her windows, at her vanity. Eva watched, as she put on her eyeliner with a precise hand, a learned hand that left a feline flick at the outer corner of her doe eyes.
“I think our creator fancies her, don’t you think?” Evangeline blurted aloud, “Like it’s one of those things… What are they called? The revelation people run from but always seems to happen anyways?”
Matthew paused. There was a reason that Evangleine was created. At first, he only assumed she was just some lucky kid with a second chance at life. He oversaw her creation- watching her in the window of a hospital room with chords and fluids tied into her. Two weary parents stood beside her in her final moments. He remembered the sound of their cries of agony, as Death welcomed her with a gentle hand to the face and a reassuring smile.
There was a part of him that ached. She had no chance in the waking world, sickness had ruined that for her before her life could even begin. He was angry about that. He was angry at first being assigned to training her how to fly, but wanted to be the only person who could. Matthew stood no chance of surviving in his cruelty as a human. But here, he could at least try and protect her from it. He was angry with Morpheus, despite his reasons. But it seemed she knew more than she let on. But maybe, he considered, Evangeline was a fresh, innocent pair of eyes examining a situation Matthew had seen unraveling. After learning of Morpheus’s unfortunate track record with love, it wouldn’t be out of the question. He paused for a moment, wondering if that was actually the case, even after joking about it. He hadn’t been that defensive about someone… Well, ever. Except in aiding in Calliope’s escape.
Matthew shook his head and sighed, “We have work to do. There’s a lot you need to learn…”
“I think it would be so romantic.” Evangeline delighted in a near whisper, “I can see it now. He’s very lonely. Otherwise, why would he make such a pretty room for her? Friends wouldn’t leave fresh cut flowers in a lady’s bedroom every morning-”
“And I don’t need you getting all swoony on me either!” Matthew cut her daydreams short with a sharper tone, “I need you to stay focused!”
“Yes, Matthew.” She snickered.
“We will land in a few minutes, there in the field.” Matthew instructed, “I can tell you’re getting tired.”
Evangeline was quiet. He began to worry.
She was looking at the skies above their heads- many changing, glimmering with different colors spanned across the horizon.
“This is the best first day of existence I’ve ever had.” She observed, looking back at him, “thank you, Uncle Matthew.”
Matthew’s nerves eased at such a term of endearment. They had barely known each other for a day. And he slowly realized- perhaps she wasn't just there for Sabine.
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter XI. Berceuse
Chapter XI. Berceuse
Synopsis: Sabine is overwhelmed with the pleasant surprise Morpheus gifted her. A part of her is healed from the gesture, but mortal guilt haunts her still. If he knows her truest dreams, what more does he know about her deepest fantasies? Could he be the one to make them come to fruition?
There was a time in Sabine’s life where she had everything a girl could dream for. She was a spoiled child, and her upbringing was spent wanting for nothing. Two homes- one in California, the other in Lahaina, her great grandmother’s property. A prestigious school, music lessons, American Girl Dolls, her own horse and stable on her family property. She remembered traveling across oceans to resorts for the summer, Disney World in the winter. But in the unfortunate turns of her adolescence, she began to accept nice things came with a cost- to herself, to the ones she loved. Income became less expendable when her parents passed, and only so much with other family members. As Lahaina burned, the fire’s stretched hand took everything she ever remembered- including her precious Casper, a white horse she loved dearly. She accepted that a life spent as a sleep psychologist would eventually sustain her. The Dremastone copy, however, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. A majority of her heirlooms were pawned to pay the crooked con who withheld the stone. All this, she accepted, she did not deserve, nor would ever come close to accumulating for herself in life.
At least, within her life in the Waking World.
What she found here was more than she could have ever hoped.
In the center of the room, backed against the wall of where she slept prior was that exact bed she described in the foyer- with long, sweeping, sky blue curtains that billowed in an invisible breeze, held up by silver columns. Silken sheets and a quilted comforter with the appearance of clouds spread across it.
She trembled, reaching forward to see the quilt patterns resembling bread fruit and passion flower stitching, just as her mother’s quilt did back in her apartment. Above her were vaulted ceilings, a night sky welcomed her with shooting stars and dimming lights. She had every piece of furniture from her lost heirloom collection, delicately painted with silver and icicle blue etchings- a vanity, the chaise lounge with a surface that shimmered with diamonds, and her grandfather’s wardrobe standing guard, towering over her. Her favorite Monet print- Dancers in blue, hung delicately on one wall, with arched windows and a terrace overlooking the Dreaming to her right. Fresh cut plumerias danced across the surface of water in floating glass vials alongside tea light candles, welcoming her with their delicate scent. It was equally elegant and comfortable. Every corner was a perfect balance of home and her desires for pretty things- a handful, she recognized from her apartment, one being the bookshelf of journals, with another leaflet open and empty. Beside it, a writing desk for more journaling and writing whatever she pleased. She had time now for all of it. Her eyes caught a leather bound makeup kit with multiple tears, with silver handled brushes itching to be used. Fragrance oils and colognes glimmered in the light coming in from the windows. All the pretty things she had ever saved in unemptied online shopping carts back home. Sabine wiped the corner of her eyes to conceal the tear that shed. She was rendered speechless, turning back to the giving Endless, whose smile grew, slowly.
“I don’t know what to say.” Sabine uttered in a near whisper.
“You needn't say a word.” Dream affirmed, matching her tone, “Upon visiting your sister, I came to learn of your beautiful world, both dreaming and awake. And I decided to bring it here to you.”
Sabine’s feet shifted. She did not know whether to run away from him or to embrace him. Or to yell, or to weep, or to do all those things at once.
“How did you know?” She asked, “And… Why?”
“The brevity of your promise to protect Kalea has touched something within me.” Lord Morpheus approached the floating vases of water and made an adjustment, his fingertip sounding a loud ping into the room, “Your selflessness will not be forgotten.”
Sabine slowly sank to the edge of her bed, resting a hand on her healing injury, too stunned to speak. Her hand ran over the quilt. Yes- it was HER bed. Everything belonged to her. Lord Morpheus took this as his cue to give her space.
“I shall leave you to rest for the evening.” Lord Morpheus said, “So you can become accustomed to your living space. There is an attached bathroom as well, next door.”
She was terrified to even look in the bathroom, but that would mean a test against the figure himself over one specific item within. A majority of these things she had written in journals- that he either knew because she was a dreamer, or he had read it.
“The interior of the wardrobe, however, may take some time to populate,” Lord Morpheus added, “You will find some clothes there for now, but that may change soon.”
“I’ll keep my eyes peeled then.” She said, “And the bookshelf… that’s for Lucienne’s delivery, right?”
He nodded.
“There will be times I will be out to aid dreamers in my realm, or collaborate in other realms beyond this one.” Morpheus said, “You are free to roam the grounds of this palace, and Fiddler’s Green is always open to you. However, the rest of the Dreaming is vast and plentiful- I only ask you to wait for me, should you choose to explore another day.”
“So I can wander a little?” She asked, “Well. I figured in situations like this there was something forbidden. No limits, anything to steer clear of?”
“That is inevitable.” Lord Morpheus’s tone grew a little more serious, “There are two locations that I ask you to avoid- the House of Mysteries and the House of Secrets, and the easternmost edge, where the night sky touches a mirrored surface of murky waters. You shall not enter there.”
“I understand.” Sabine said, “.... I’m curious. But I understand. With names like that, I’d be hesitant to enter anyways. And technically, wouldn’t that be three places?”
“You are tired.” Morpheus quipped, “We shall speak of this more another day.”
“Wait, when can I see you again?” Sabine stood, her arm wrapping around the bedpost, “I mean… I know you’re busy. I’ll always find ways to occupy myself but…”
She pulled back in shame at her own desperation to be close to him again, “So we can make time for those answers….”
“Tomorrow afternoon, when the sun is at its highest.” He answered, “I will see you then. And I will show you what I mean.”
“Okay…” Sabine concealed her smile, “Thank you, Lord Morpheus.”
He looked back at her in the doorway, “For what?”
“For being so kind to me.” Sabine replied, “For giving me such beautiful things even when… When I nearly ruined everything.”
The Lord’s ocean eyes glimmered on the surface.
“Sabine.” Her name on his lips sounded like poetry, “As you remain here in the Dreaming, there is no necessity for formally addressing me. I have gone by many names before. You may call me by my name beyond a title. My other creations address me as Dream. You are more than welcome to call me either Morpheus, or as Dream the Endless. Whichever you decide, will not offend me.”
His words seemed to unfurrow the stitch in her neck and shoulders, relaxing them. A soft sigh of relief left her lips. She smiled, looking down at the ground a moment before returning to look up at him again.
“Good night, Morpheus.” Sabine said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He was pleased to see her at ease, “Good night to you, Sabine.”
As he shut the door behind him, a hand fell over her mouth to shut out the muffled scream that clattered beneath.
“Sweet dreams!” She stupidly uttered, soon covering her mouth as the door shut, “Sweet dreams my ass! Stand up!!!! Stand! Up!”
Sabine couldn’t decide if she was talking to herself or just processing the gift she had been given.
“I’m beating his ass into next week.” Sabine stammered, “He better not spoil me. I’m insufferable enough.”
She shook it off, checking her new room one more time. Her head was spinning as if she had something to drink.
“This is all mine.” She whispered, “All of it. Oh my god, Kalea. Kalea is… No. I can’t.” She shook her head, “But…The bathroom was fine before. He couldn’t have… I swear to-”
She ran across the carpeted flooring to reach the door handle. The door opened into a large Turkish bath, with circular ceilings lit by golden fire. At the center, a pearl hued chamber filled with lily pads and simmering crystal waters. Above her, in marble ceiling frescos of a sunset sky were stained glass windows of sirens at play, that seemed to shimmer with movement. She let out a small cry of joy, stomping her feet.
“I’m going to kill him!” She exclaimed, “He didn’t- and the sinks!” She cried, admiring the polished amenities before circular mirrors. But one thing in particular was what she was desperate to look for- and there, in its own protected corner surrounded by curtains was what she was looking for.
Meanwhile, Dream was waiting patiently within earshot of Sabine’s chambers. He leaned against the palace wall, listening intently. He was grinning like a fool already at her ranting and raging.
Soon, he delighted at the sound of Sabine’s squealing laughter from within her room, leaning against the wall outside. The joyous, bubbling, infectious sound brought a smile to his face.
“Shut UP!” her voice buzzed from inside the walls, “He fucking didn’t! He got me a golden fucking toilet!”
Her hands clapped aloud, as the thud of her jumping footsteps shook the wall. Her voice broke into bursts of wheezing and silence, as she hollered with glee at such a cheeky gift.
“I’ll feel guilty later.” Sabine exclaimed, “Shiiiiyet, I’m taking a bath in this now. And is there- If there’s champagne and strawberries I might actually-”
“Look on the counter again, Sabine.” Dream whispered, pointing his finger upwards, “To the right…” On cue, another shrill giggle of glee rattled the wall, followed by a champagne cork popping.
“Absolutley!” Sabine giggled with glee. There was a pop of the cork, followed by her giddy laughter.
He walked away quickly, on fast feet, trying to conceal his laughter. Lucienne approached him coming from the opposite direction with the cart of her book haul. Her brow arched high, she exchanged a knowing glance with her creator as he passed. Here was an immortal figure acting like a youth in love for the first time, pretending to be shocked he was caught with a spring in his step.
“Not a word.” Morpheus chided.
Lucienne put her hands up while guiding the cart, “I had no means to say anything aloud, sire.”
He kept walking, forcing himself not to look back. Matthew was right about one thing.
He was most certainly in for it now.
And so was Sabine, that night after an everything bath, an entire bottle of champagne, and more sensible pajamas, curling within the quilt he so kindly provided her. It did not smell like her childhood home, but that was okay. Gardenia and night jasmine bloomed, their soft perfume coming from the mini moon garden on her balcony. Her wet hair formed into soft curls with more volume than she could ever try at home, but a chill had settled. The guilt washed over her in silent tears to sleep again, as her back faced moonlight pouring through from the windows he carefully made. There was no shortage of tenderness in every inch of the place, not even in the photo Dream left on her bedside table of her and Kalea only four years prior. Her thumb brushed over her sister’s photo, as she curled deeper within herself.
As Sabine dragged herself to bed, finally, in the inky hour of Dream’s skies, she couldn’t help but to ponder- if Kalea was finally freed from night terrors- would it be possible to find her too, in the Dreaming? Would she know where to find her? And if so… Would Kalea forgive her?
Her bereavement was interrupted, if for a moment by the comforting bed that was made for her. She ran her hand across the satin sheets, in awe of them not making her slide off. A shadow loomed over her- a partial curtain moving on its own to block her eyes from the blinding moonlight. She rolled on her side, burrowing herself deeper into the covers. Tomorrow she will try to find more answers about Morpheus. But for now, she forced herself to sleep- her mind not wandering far from the way his silhouette towered over her. The sound of his gentle voice swarmed her thoughts enough already. And how she, deep down, craved the comfort of his protective arms when she felt so afraid, wondering what the velvet inside his coat felt like if she had rested against it for a moment. And she should’ve been angry to think such things. It was selfish. And maybe she had a right to be a little selfish after spending years pretending not to be.
After all…. If he could make dreams possible, what else did he know about her deepest fantasies?
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter X. Atonia
Chapter X. Atonia
Synopsis: Sabine slowly begins to embrace her new home within the Dreaming. A likely friendship begins to bloom between Sabine and the resident librarian, Lucienne. In the midst of their conversation, Morpheus invites Sabine to a surprise, to soften the blow of staying there for eternity.
It took another day of food and a shower before Sabine found the courage to venture in Morpheus’s palace again. In the bare chamber closet, she found a pair of dark jeans and a long sleeve tee. Both were familiar to her closet from home, with her white sneakers waiting at the bottom of the closet. It was the first pair of real clothes that had no blood stained on them. The texture of silk was nice, but near too revealing to be in public. She hesitated at first at the jeans, knowing how much of a terror it was to have them hemmed constantly before. But as she stumbled into the pair, she was pleased to find everything fit her like a glove, hugging her hips in the best way possible. That itself gave her enough confidence to finally brave a journey to Lucienne’s library.
Sabine embraced the carefully quiet company of the Dreaming’s grand library. From its arched stained windows letting in golden light from her left, to the infinite shelves of novels as far as the eye could see. And most of all, it was quiet. The gentle silence of this area was what she adored most. And thanks to Lucienne, every book she could ever ask for was here, on the shelves. But for now, there was solace in the early pages of Emily Dickinson’s poems. Sabine and Emily finally had one thing in common- chosen to a life of isolation, the space leaving them to both ponder the wonders of life and death as it has presented. Her eyes drunk in every word of the posthumous poet, wishing she could write to her and tell her the beauty of such a place.
“Ah, Emily. I remember her.” Lucienne said fondly, “She spent many dreams in her lifetime here, amongst these books.”
Sabine paused, looking up at Lucienne across the way, “Wait, I’m sorry, you actually saw her?”
“Yes.” She smiled softly, “Strange thing she was. Always wearing white- she told me the absence of color would highlight the soul in its purest form. I would try to speak to her, but she wasn’t the social type.”
“That was her.” Sabine confirmed, “Do you know what she read?” Sabine asked, resting her elbow on the desk surface. Lucienne nodded.
“She loved reading the histories of other cultures.” Lucienne answered, “As well as knowledge of the tides and sea. Maps of the waking world. She was fascinated by them.”
Sabine smiled nostalgically, soon taking notice of the book leaden cart she pushed forward, “Are those all the books I requested?”
Lucienne nodded proudly, “Per your request. I found many of those novels you told me about and slipped in a few of my own recommendations… You must let me know how you enjoy these classics when you find time for them.”
Her fingers drummed across the cover of one particular hardcover of Pride and Prejudice. Sabine feigned a smile, not having the heart to tell her she had fallen asleep the first attempt in reading it.
“Time is something I’m not really worried about here… Did you end up finding the one I mentioned to Matthew the other day by any chance?”
“...Yes, as promised.. A Patio of Wisps and Jury is in there as well.” Her face soured as if she sucked the pit of an old lemon at the purposeful butchering of the novel’s name. Sabine laughed through her nose.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm.” Sabine giggled, “But I think you’re slightly off on the title’s name.”
Lucienne begrudgingly shook her head, “I may not understand your infatuation with such a novel, but it’s here before flying off the shelves again…”
“Not a fan of it?” Sabine asked, intrigued by the librarian’s sour responses, “Have you had the chance to read it, at least?”
Lucienne checked over her shoulder once, as if in fear of listening ears, before returning to answer Sabine’s burning question.
“You don’t have a clue how many times I’ve seen these…” Lucienne dragged in a disgusted tone, waving her hand, “Motifs…. And symbols…. Recreations of certain scenes…. In this realm.”
Sabine covered her mouth, “Oh god… No, Lucienne, you poor thing. I’m not surprised. It’s finally reached its peak popularity…”
Lucienne huffed and braced herself on the desk before Sabine, “It’s been a problem. I’ve had to chase several dreamers out of these dark corners. Too frequently, it has been a menace, making my library a backdrop to their desires!”
Sabine let out a small wheezing laugh, leaning forward, “Get out. You can’t mean that they were…”
“You’ve read the cursed thing!” Lucienne hissed under her breath, “Everything you can think of! On the cupboards, on the shelves… My dear, I couldn't look at soup normally for a week in your time.”
Sabine’s face tinged red again, as she snickered. Soon, Lucienne broke her annoyance with a laugh as well, shaking her head.
“Lucienne!” Sabine chided softly, “You are killing me with this!”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you’re the first person who has believed me!” Lucienne whispered with wide eyes, “And don't even get me started on the paint spills we had to clean in the east wing before!”
Sabine wheezed loudly, covering her eyes, “That’s terrible! What did Lord Morpheus say about it?!”
“Not much. He was the one who walked in on them!” Lucienne gossipped.
Sabine gasped louder, “No!”
Lucienne bit back a laugh, glancing away from Sabine. Sabine was too stunned to speak at such sheer human audacity. She couldn’t imagine how embarrassing it must have been to have him enter such ravenous dreams.
“What happened?” Sabine asked, leaning in, “Did he get angry with them?”
“No one knows.” Lucienne uttered in a low tone, “But he wasn’t pleased when a trail of blue paint was left in his boot tracks…. Mixed with something else.”
Sabine’s jaw gaped, “You don’t mean….”
“Well it certainly wasn’t turpentine…” Lucienne trailed off, “That is all I will say.”
Both exchanged glasses and burst into laughter.
“Augh!” Sabine lurched back with a yell, covering her mouth, “Lucienne, that is deplorable!”
Lucienne clenched her eyes shut. Sabine’s space was not quiet any longer, as her loud cackle echoed down the halls. She thumped her knee, her head falling to the table, only to have her injury pull against her skin. She threw her head back, throwing her head back into the chair, which tapped lightly. The domino effect of such clumsiness made Lucienne stumble away and cling to the support of Sabine’s cart, bending forward into a silent laugh. Sabine could not breathe, her mouth gaping, feeling mortified by this moment of error.
Lucienne took a breath, clearing her throat loudly, trying to sit up.
“Are you okay, Sabine?” Lucienne chortled, barely able to contain decorum, “Sabine, stop, you’re going to rip your stitches-”
S abine's stomach clenched, as she shook her head in silent laughter. Lucienne hurried to her side to gently rub her reddened forehead from a low thump, which made the mortal resident laugh harder. They could barely keep it together, as Sabine slowly began to collect her senses. An eternity spent here wouldn’t become so dull, Sabine realized, as she had bonded over a librarian over something so niche.
“Oh, oh, god.” Sabine wiped her eyes, “I seriously needed that. Thank you. Oh my gosh. I bet you have stories from everything here.”
“That is but only scratching the surface, Sabine.” Lucienne heaved, wiping a tear behind her glasses as she pulled away, “There’s so much more. So much…”
Sabine coughed, covering her mouth, “I barely got this thing healing and it feels like I’m about to burst again.”
Library doors creaked open, as Lord Morpheus strode into the shared space. Lucienne quickly pulled away, pulling her hands in a clasp in front of her. Sabine sucked in a deep breath through her nostrils, holding her head high. Her book rested in her lap with a swift hand, as if she had been reading all along.
“Hello, Lucienne.” Lord Morheus greeted warmly, “Sabine. Is all well here?”
“Hello, sir, you’ve returned.” Lucienne said in a calm tone, “And everything here is fine.”
Sabine swallowed, before struggling to look at him seriously again. Her eyes glanced down to his boots, wondering what else he had to trudge his way through helping out dreamers. His long, black cloak carried such a sophisticated aire. She felt sheepish without a stitch of makeup, the redness peppering her cheeks with small bumps. Dream’s gaze fixated on them a moment too long, before maintaining a focus on them both.
“I was just enjoying the selection Lucienne provided me from this epic library of yours.” Sabine said in a neutral tone, “She found a book I miss dearly as well.”
“That is wonderful news.” Lord Morpheus hummed, “I couldn't help but to wonder if all was well. Upon entering this area, I heard a strange thud from within these halls.”
Sabine stammered, “Well…. It was my knee, tapping the table. Usually happens.” She shrugged, “Your desks here attacked my shins.”
Lucienne shot her a look, which made Sabine nearly collapse into laughter then and there.
Morpheus stifled a chuckle, “I see. I apologize that this realm is no stranger to your… Biological haphazardness.”
Lucienne walked away quickly, almost too quickly to another shelf away from them both. Sabine nodded, moving a stray hair out of place from her eyes.
“That’s a fancy way of putting it.” Sabine remarked, standing slowly. Her sides still ached from laughing hard, “How is Kalea?”
“She is well.” Morpheus informed her, “Kalea will no longer have any involvement with any rogue nightmares. She is partially disoriented, but recovering much faster than expected.”
Sabine bore a tentative smile, “Thank you, Lord Morpheus.”
He flashed a smile at her, “Upon visiting your living arrangement, I have also made adjustments to your chambers, as well as a few other necessities upon your stay here.”
There was warmth in his pale grin, putting her at ease. It was almost unsettling, making her feel thrilled. The corners of Morpheus’s syes were smiling upon her. But was there another catch to this, she wondered. What was this, then, trying to be so kind after presenting so cooly before her? The sensation gave her whiplash, as she left her seating.
“I appreciate that, but really, it isn’t necessary..” Sabine nodded, “I wasn’t sure who exactly to ask about clothes here, that was my only concern until this morning. I mean, I figure you’ve bumped into nude dreamers before… But that’s different. As much as I adored those gowns… This was a great change.”
“Understandably so.” the Lord mused, “Would you care to see your living arrangements now to change that?”
Sabine looked back at Lucienne behind her main desk. Lucienne waved her off.
“I’ll have these books sent your way later.” Lucienne insisted, “You go ahead, don’t worry. You’re always welcome here.”
“Okay!” Sabine grinned, “I’ll see you another time then, Lucienne.”
“Be seeing you.” Lucienne nodded.
Morpheus looked back at his creation, whose eyes sparked with humor at a joke he was not a part of. Her expression grew serious again, as Sabine turned away, seemingly still hiding her humor.
The two strolled beside each other at an awkward distance whose gap had not closed- at least, not yet.
“I’m grateful Kalea is okay.” She said aloud, “It’s about to be her second year in college and she’s going to struggle so much figuring out classes and books.”
“Her spirit is strong.” Dream spoke, “Just as yours. It will be her time to learn as she goes, as you did.”
Sabine almost felt annoyed by his reassurance on the matter.
“I suppose you’re right.” Sabine said, “I’ve tried to show her right from wrong. She was in my custody after our aunt died. But… Since our parents have been gone, it seems like… Something shifted. She was once so sure of herself- in her aspirations, her goals… But ever since, it seems that she isn’t always there. She’s quick to wander off. She tries to find herself in other people and it hurts her in the process. That’s what scares me. I had to be a sister, and a mother.”
The Lord shook his head, “In my abduction I failed to protect the dreamers from such terrors, your family included. There is no doubt she is a wanderer, but with my control on the realm now, I can ensure her safety.”
Sabine inches closer as they spoke, “What happened to you? If you don’t mind me asking. You were captured. I still remember you told me, so long ago, but not about why…. Or who.”
“I was abducted by humans and forced into isolation.” Dream answered in a dry tone, “Everything created here is for dreams and nightmares of humanity. It is as much a part of me, as I am to it. My creations come in all shapes and forms in response to dreamers. It is never healthy to drown in them. One human who did this, being a sorcerer by the name of Roderick Burgess foolishly summoned me with the Magdalene Grimoire to summon Death. His goal was to return his deceased son, who was killed in combat. Instead… He summoned me.”
Sabine struggled to process this new information, “A human thinking they have control over power that’s beyond them? How groundbreaking.”
At first, he seemed amused. But Sabine was serious.
“Glad you came in prepared, being so coarse with me.”
“No.” Lord Morpheus feigned, “Hence why I was concerned prior when you entered my realm. The last time anything like this happened, I was trapped in a sphere of glass when I refused to fulfill his delusions.”
Sabine frowned, “Lucky for you, I won’t be putting you in a hamster ball for keeping me here instead of near my only family. Now I’ll be stuck here bothering you for the rest of my life.”
Morpheus scoffed, “You say that as if it were rotten work.”
“Well, is it?”
“Only time will tell.” Morpheus slyly.
She walked forward on fast feet, as automatic glass doors cued for her to enter a terrance towards her chambers. He hurried then, and stopped her there, in a stone hall that opened to the outside. The Endless stood, brows softened, his head tilting down to look upon his new resident. Sabine stopped in her tracks, as he stood to face her.
“I can assure you are nothing in the slightest similar to Roderick Burgess.” He spoke in a tender tone, “You are human, but that does not make your intentions nefarious. I’ve always seen this in you.”
Sabine felt angry in response to his sudden gentleness. He was being kind now, but why? What was he playing at? Her teeth clasped together in her jaw, lips pursed softly.
“Thank you.” She said, “I’d rather you know now than to spend an eternity reminding me of every mistake I ever made.”
She was still angry. She had every right to be angry and yet the Endless still ached at her responses. Hatred was a far cry from how he felt upon speaking to her. What he wished to say was that he could never hate her- that she was not just a human but every reminder of the beauty in humanity that shone through every vein of this realm. He hadn’t heard laughter like hers fill his halls in… ever, really. And he never wanted to go without it again. Dream hesitated, holding back what he wished to say. It wasn’t right. Not just yet.
“Shall we continue, Lord Morpheus?” Sabine asked in a neutral tone.
“Yes.” He snapped from his inner thoughts, “I beg your pardon.”
Sabine would have done just that if the skies surrounding them had not caught her attention. The sun was slowly beginning to set here. Other humans, in their dreams, passed by below. Some were alert, excitedly wandering about. Some were in a haze with gazes fixated on the horizon. She watched over them carefully, looking out to the other places in his realm as far as her vision could muster.
“What do you see?” He asked.
“I wish I could find the right words, but this is how I imagined heaven to look… And this is all of your creation,” She observed, “How do you do it?”
“In my solitude, I questioned that many times as well.” Dream answered, “And at first, I only assumed my power came from the tools of my creation. That without them, I was convinced by Burgess that I was nothing.”
“But he was wrong.” Sabine remarked, “I don’t even know him, but he was an idiot.”
“You cannot place yourself in the powers of your trinkets,” Dream stated.
“You’d have a laugh at my purse back in the apartment, then.” Sabine joked, “I carried my entire life in that thing.”
He reached from his pocket, thumbing through grains of sand to show her. Sabine watched carefully and dared not to touch it. The last, he presented was a terrifying looking helmet- with ruby red eyes and a long, slender beak of iron. She tilted her head, observing it closely.
“So that’s what that is.” She hummed, “It kind of looks like a mosquito.”
“I have never heard that comparison before.” Lord Morpheus chuckled lowly, “And thanks to you, I may now never unsee it. It is more like a gas mask. ”
Sabine scoffed, “Oh, great. I’m just digging my own grave here, aren’t I? Here I am being rude when you’ve given me a home here. That’s perfect.”
Her gaze shifted downwards to avoid any further trouble with him. But he was delighted.
“In case this was a peculiar way of expressing your concerns for mosquitoes, they do not bite here.” Lord Morpheus informed.
“Good.” Sabine crossed her arms over her chest, “Because I do not have a good track record with them. I’m sure you’re probably tired of me already and I’m giving you ideas. I know there was this ancient punishment involving being steeped in stagnant water with milk and honey, while the victim gets munched on until they’re gone. You’re probably going to do that to people who overshare, won’t you?”
The words were falling out of her mouth, but she could not stop them.
Lord Morpheus, however, was pleasurably entertained.
“Your punishment would be far more creative.” He teased. It was so easy to tease her, when she was already embarrassed. Sabine huffed in annoyance.
“Then I won’t give you any more ideas.” Sabine thwarted, “... Another thing, is it true that you’re the reason behind sand getting in my eyes, or is that just an excuse for people with dry eye issues?”
“That depends on the dreamer.” He diverted along with her subject changing, “But my sand does have the tendency to linger. It is usually dangerous to humans at first touch. Addicting, even.”
“Why?” Sabine asked.
Her ramblings and constant questions delighted him. He stalled in his response to her, in hopes of another day spent just hearing her voice.
“In short, it can grant humans immortality.” He answered, “But at a very dire cost, they can rot in a perpetual state of dreaming. They wither in time, forever dreaming.”
“Rotting in their beds, wasting their life away.” Sabine nodded, “So, Kalea wasn’t as bad?”
“There has been worse.”
He held a pained expression, remembering Johanna Constantne’s lover passing in an unfortunate way. Sabine noticed this, walking forward.
The pair finished their walk to Sabine’s room in silence, and Sabine soon paused, finding the door appearing different than before. An ornate, midnight blue door decorated with shimmering stars and golden swirls stood before her. She opened her mouth to speak once, looking at him.
“Was it always this way?” She pondered, “Hold on, you did this?”
He seemed proud in that moment at her wonder, “Look closer. You’ll find something more fascinating on its surface.”
As Sabine walked closer, small glimmering stars seemed to twinkle and ebb across the surface. Glints of shooting stars, and a moon at its current phase plastered over the doorway at her eye’s level. Planets loomed in the distance, as her fingertips ran across the door. A spindly figure made of shimmering light danced across her fingertips, the spite waving her to come in. Sabine flinched, the figure curling her head with the speed of a hummingbird.
“This is mine?” She asked softly, looking back at him.
“You will find the remaining aspects of your chambers altered as well.” He added, “To better suit your comforts.”
Sabine laughed nervously, “Wait a minute… Wait a second here, sir. Sir.” She pointed a finger, “These kinds of things take weeks to renovate. And you barely know me. You mean to tell me that the entire bedroom has changed… Just like that?”
“Like what, exactly?” Morpheus asked coyly.
Sabine snapped her fingers, “Like that? Like… Poof?”
Lord Morpheus laughed through his nose, “With that little noise, no, but I may have to appropriate it from now on in all my work.”
Sabine sighed in annoyance, “Don’t tease me! Be serious. Don’t tell me you changed my bedroom into some… Royal, fancy, pretty thing…”
She bit her lip to stop herself from talking.
“I will let you be the judge of that.” The lord charmed.
She grabbed the door knob, looking back at the Lord again. She was almost scared to open it herself.
“Please tell me you didn’t go crazy in there.” She said, her voice filled with dread, “I don’t. I’m sorry. I know you’re not messing with me, but I have trust issues. This has been a very strange day for me. Or for… Two days. I talked to someone with a jack-o-lantern for a head.”
There was a ghost of a proud smile across his lips, but he still maintained distance from her.
“And?” He asked, listening intently.
Sabine took a breath, wiping her palms on her robe, “And you’ve put me through the ringer, you know. I thought one second you’d kill me, the next you’re being so kind. I just feel a little nervous. I don’t know what to make of you, Lord Morpheus.”
He stepped past her, placing his hand on the doorknob and opening it.
“Where are my manners then?” He acknowledged with a swayed hand, “You can trust there are no tricks here. No binding contracts, not after what you agreed to.”
Sabine’s shoulders dropped from tension- they ached as she held them higher in his presence. She nodded, letting him show her the way.
“Then I hope you haven’t forgotten about the four post canopy king sized bed.” She huffed with an air of teasing, “Or the duvet cushions. Or the chaise lounge… And a diffuser! I haven’t washed my hair in four days, you know.”
Morpheus knew she was stalling. That was to be expected. What was inside her chambers, she couldn’t have expected, even beyond her half joking request.
Happy belated new year! And happy first birthday to my Fan Fiction account. Thank you so much for all the support on my re-released Sandman fan fiction. If you could refer to my updated master list at the top of this account, it would be appreciated! I will continue posting on schedule as much as possible. One of my new year's resolutions is to release all the fan fictions I have in my drafts in the year 2026. Keep an eye on your notifications for some new storylines! Thank you again, my darlings. You give me courage to write what I truly desire.
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter IX.
Chapter IX. Somnolence
Synopsis: While Morpheus is away, Sabine carries her grief loudly in protest. A mutual understanding is quickly met between her and Morpheus's creations. Morpheus, ever the gentleman, understands the importance of creature comforts for his new companion.
In Morpheus’s absence, Sabine wept. All doors were shut. The window remained obscured to the light and prosperity of the Dreaming. Patrons of the Dreaming quickly familiarized the sounds of her grief and kept their distance, many cultures fearing it to be an omen of impending death. Lucienne and Matthew quickly reassured frightened dreamers that the weeping was no cause for alarm. Lord Morpheus had not returned for almost six days, calculating longer in the Waking World. For these six days, she refused to eat. She refused to leave her room, even as Lord Morpheus attempted to coax her.
Sabine laid on her side, fighting between stages of restlessness and awake. Her arms were sore from pinch mark pain, attempting to wake herself from this never ending nightmare. But it was too late to wake up now.
She would remain here for god knows how long, beneath Morpheus and his glowing eyes. They burned into her vision, equally enchanting and frightening. She could not let his piercing gaze escape her. She resented herself for that, staring into nothing.
Meanwhile- Lucienne, Matthew, and Mervyn stood in a half circle outside of the closed chamber door, observing yet another plate of untouched food.
“.... What do you think?” Matthew asked Lucienne.
“I tried.” Lucienne’s response was short, “I try not to intrude, as much as possible.”
“How long can humans survive without food and water?” Mervyn asked.
“Three days without water.” Lucienne answered, “But she’s had some. But nothing to eat.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing.” Mervyn said.
“No, it isn’t.” Lucienne argued, “Not when she’s injured. It will only hinder her healing, and her quality of life.”
“I think her quality of life isn’t something we should talk about while she’s in ear shot, guys.” Matthew observed, motioning his beak to the door.
Lucienne sighed in disappointment as she picked up the cold, uneaten stew and biscuits.
“She’s got to eat something.” She muttered, as they headed down the hall, “But Lord Morpheus will not be thrilled knowing this, either.”
All but Lucienne flinched in the presence of their creator. Mervyn scratched his neck, not making eye contact with him.
“We didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Mervyn admitted sheepishly, “Erm… Well, it appears that this lady friend of yours isn’t eating.”
“He’s not my friend.” Sabine interjected from inside her chambers.
Matthew exchanged a glance with Lucienne, whose eyes were wide behind her glasses.
“She’s hangry.” Matthew whispered to Morpheus, “It’s…. You know. A mix of hungry and angry, but she’s still too…. Stubborn to eat.”
Morpheus let out a small chuckle, his brow rising upward at her attitude, “Bold to assume you’d bite the hand that feeds you.”
“Why would I?” Sabine remarked, “When I’m not remotely hungry.”
Mervyn awkwardly inched away at Lucienne’s silent signal.
Matthew hopped to the doorframe’s edge and tapped it with his beak, “He’s right here, Sabine-”
“Good.” Sabine thwarted, “So he can know just how much I resent him.”
Morpheus quietly pressed his head to the side of the door, while placing a hand on the doorknob. It was stiff to the touch, as if she placed an object under it. He shook his head slowly, looking at Lucienne. Lucienne spoke multitudes without uttering a word, as she crossed her arms and leaned against the other door frame. Her hand motioned to the anger simmering from the guest chamber. She was perplexed still, at the growing annoyance in her creator’s smile.
“I take it you are angry with me.” Morpheus observed, keeping his tone neutral.
“Oh, really??” Sabine responded in an irritated tone, “It doesn’t take the genius of an anthropomorphic representation of a natural force to figure that out.”
Morpheus scowled, looking at Lucienne again.
“Has she been like this with you?” Morpheus asked softly.
“Nothing but silence for me.” Lucienne answered flatly, “And given what kind of deal you both agreed to, I think she has every right.”
“She’ll starve herself in there.” Morpheus murmured, looking down at the plate of cold food in her hand, “Regardless of how long her sentence is here, she cannot survive.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Lucienne admitted, “I think this is only a matter that should be settled with you both. She’s clearly irrational from a lack of food.”
“I heard that!” Sabine snapped.
“That was the goal.” Lucienne said with a forced smile, “Maybe you should take my advice.”
Morpheus inhaled deeply, “I will speak to her. You may return to your duties at the library.”
“Thank you.” Lucienne turned to leave, “And my Lord…” Lucienne glanced at the door again, lowering her voice, “Please. Be gentle with her. She isn’t in the slightest with herself.”
Morpheus waited until Lucienne left, before sitting down on the ground before her doorway. His fingertips grazed the surface, feeling it ebb and weave into waves of vapor before retracting his hand back. He had every power capable of walking through the door. Barriers meant nothing in this realm, but she didn’t know that. And he wasn’t intending on her finding out. With a wave of his hand, the stew disappeared into a dark wave of smoke.
Sabine rose from the bed, taking tentative steps to the door. Her eyes and face were puffy from crying. Her throat curdled into a rasp as she spoke again.
“What do you want?” Sabine asked aloud, annoyance growing in her voice.
Morpheus crossed his lanky legs as he sat before the door, leaning into the frame, “I have come to relieve you of your penance, Sabine.”
“That’s rich.” Sabine laughed bitterly, “Trying to be sweet on me now after I’m stuck here? Knowing I’m better off dead?”
“Death has not changed her mind on taking you. She has made that clearest, of all things.” Morpheus spoke truthfully, eyeing the shadows of her feet beneath the doorframe, “And nor should you starve yourself as punishment for being away from your little sister, either.”
A moment of silence hung in the air from the other end of Sabine’s door. Morpheus waited patiently.
“I’m angry.” Sabine said, “I’m angry at everything. I’m angry at myself, at you, and I shouldn’t be.”
“That is understandable.” Morpheus said in a low voice, tracing his finger across the etched doorframe, “And I will not argue with you on that. However…. It troubles everyone that you aren’t caring for yourself.”
“I won’t eat.” Sabine protested, “I won’t sleep. I won’t do anything with anyone.”
Morpheus failed to conceal the growing smile on his face, “You do not owe me theatrics, Sabine. Your sister is free from her coma.”
He could feel the guilt come over her at his news. There was a low thud on the doorway, as her body slid back against it, her back facing to him.
“Of course.” Sabine muttered, “Of course I’m angry and you say that. I’m sure you regret giving me that chance, huh?”
“No.” Morpheus replied, tucking the small strip of blue silk from her robe that fell beneath the doorway back in, “Not in the slightest. My concern now is making sure you are rested and recovering.”
He waited for another response.
“Is my cat okay?” She asked, “His name is Kimo. I’m sure you saw him.”
Morpheus smiled at the growing softness in her voice, “Kimo is in excellent health and Kalea is caring for him.”
Sabine’s head lightly began to tap against the doorframe. She was punishing herself yet again.
“Thank you.” She said, “And… This is going to sound so stupid, but I’ve pitched a fit already…”
“Go on.” Morpheus reassured her.
“... There aren't any more of those creeps like the Corinthian, right?” Sabine asked, “I shouldn’t worry about anything else trying to hurt Kalea. I know he’s your creation and all, but he put a knife to my throat.”
“You have my word.” Morpheus said closer to the door, “You will always have my word.”
Sabine sniffled from inside.
“Can you just check on her again soon?” Sabine asked, “I don’t know what kind of errands you do… But I just need to know they’re okay. Please. I swore no contact. But please, just to… Humor me, I guess. In another day or so.”
“It will be done.” Morpheus accepted her request, “In this realm, I will leave every now and then to attend to business in the Waking World and with my siblings. If you would like to voice more of your concerns, you can always speak to me. If not me, Matthew.”
Sabine held her knees tighter to her chest at his words, pressing her chin into them.
“You don’t have to close the doors on any of us.” Morpheus said, “Your heart is aching. But please, now is no time to isolate.”
“Is that all?” Sabine asked in a worn out voice.
Morpheus rose to his feet, pausing longer, “I understand your protest still remains strong…. But I noticed some particular memories of yours in your apartment, of all the recipes your family gave to you…”
“Yes, and?”
“I would like to ask.” Morpheus pried, “Which, of all of them, was your favorite?”
On the other side of the door, Sabine bounced her leg in a silk nightgown similar from days prior, as she shook her head.
“Why do you want to know?” Sabine asked.
“I like to know what brings joy to all dreamers here.” Morpheus was lying. It was so clear he was. But she took the bait anyway.
“Kalua pork.” She uttered, “ With a side of lomi salmon, my aunt made the best. Poi, it’s a… I don’t know if you know what it is. I’m sure you do. It’s a starch. And a pot of white rice. For dessert we always had some sort of cake, but my favorite was mango mochi… That was always our Sunday meal.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Morpheus marveled, “It must be a very special meal for you.”
Sabine’s stomach betrayed her with a violent growl.
“Stop tricking me into being hungry.” Sabine quipped.
“I do not know what you mean by that.” Morpheus spoke innocently, “If you are to spend eternity here with me, I may as well know what brings you peace too.”
The sound of his footsteps carried away from her doorway. Sabine waited until then to walk back to the unmade bed. Before she could fall face first into the covers, there was another knock at the door.
“I swear to god.” Sabine muttered, “Lord Morpheus, I don’t wish to see you.”
Silence.
“Did you hear me or not?” She quipped, “I said I’m not in the mood.”
She could picture it then- standing in her doorway with his bad, bad eyes. His stern finger waved in her face, darkening his gaze. Sabine grabbed one of her slippers firmly in hand, feeling it burn in her palm. If he was there, she was seconds away from walloping an immortal figure upside the head with it. She stormed to the doorway with a huff, checking for any foot imprints under the doorway, only to find a pair of wheels. She quickly opened the door to a large concealed tray of food. The trolley was unmanned, as it pushed its way into her room. Sabine stumbled back until it parked before her with a squeaky wheel. Suddenly the slipper had gone missing from her hand.
“If it’s in here, I’m throwing his skinny butt out this window.” She muttered, opening the silver cover. Steam from the exact meal she described welcomed her with fragrances of home to the point of tears. Everything was freshly made, within an instant. She checked over her shoulder and threw the door shut, so at least the sound of her carnal devouring could be concealed to some degree. Between bites, her resentment towards Morpheus shrank…. Only slightly, but much more than she was willing to admit as the trolley pulled away.
Happy New Year, everyone! I pray that this year is kinder to all. Please know that creating art, even if it isn't "good" by a standard that was set to make a certain kind of person the exception, is a revolution all in itself! Keep writing, keep reading, keep creating for your own joy! Don't let a robot take that from you!
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter VIII.
Chapter VIII. Circadian
Synopsis: Morpheus upholds his end of the agreement he made with Sabine by returning to the Waking World to treat Kalea. While there, he meets with his sister in passing. Quickly, the Endless discovers exactly why Sabine has narrowly escaped Death not once, but twice.
Lord Morpheus was furious. With himself, more than anything. As he traveled from his realm to the Waking World, the sound of Sabine weeping outside his throne room rang in his ears. Morpheus cursed himself for causing such pain in his fury. He knew she was angry, that she was frightened. And in her anger towards him, she still chose what was right. The sound of her weeping in the hall festered like an infected wound in his breast. She had wept as brutally as the last time they parted. His goal in taking that memory was to erase her pain, but what was the point? Her spirit was simply too strong.
She never chose to use the Dreamstone copy for anything selfish. And how could she? Her purity did not come from beauty alone. Not even as she shone beneath the stained glass windows, seeing red glow within her dark hair. She was not a good woman for being so fair, made with love and tenderness, with a genealogy carved and shaped carefully by the sands of time with careful hands. In her dark, heady eyes, he witnessed the century of women who fought against these shadows- his shadows that unraveled in his absence. The dreaming had plenty of room to give her anything she wanted- anything she pleased. He had realized the brevity of her permanent residence then- he would spend the rest of eternity torturing himself for this decision, as well as maintaining its beauty, safety, and comfort for her. And perhaps in due time, she would grow to embrace them. She was not the same girl that danced along the shore like a dangerous siren. And he accepted it without hesitation.
Dream, in his annoyance, remained with his helm on upon entering the living room of her small shared apartment. All the blinds and screen doors were shrouded from outside. He stood in the middle of it, his back facing a large television and a bookshelf full of texts- some looking brand new, except for one- a battered copy of “The Psychology of Dreams.”
How fitting, he thought to himself. The space was chaotically organized, a clash of two aesthetics, swarmed by paperwork. Sabine’s laptop rested on the table outside a kitchenette- with dishes still soaking in the sink. Brown bananas attracted a small cloud of fruit flies. The air was stale. There was no color, or warmth here in her absence. Morpheus walked down a short hallway that was lined floor to ceiling with photos- family members now deceased, tastes of a childhood of tropical light and laughter. He stilled before them, seeing her young shining face. Another photo, her fifteen year old self atop a Camarillo White steed. Others- dance performances in red flowers and leis of white plumerias. Another, her graduation photo. Beautiful stills of her life that he had no courage to steal away from Kalea, now that she’d be alone. His heart sank as he trudged to her bedroom, mistakenly entering Sabine’s before her sister’s.
A dark, cold mess of whimsical trinkets and clothes splayed in an explosion across her floors. Her dress was cast across the bed from going out the night prior, as Dream carefully picked it up, feeling its velveteen fabric beneath his fingertips. Notes of shimmering plumeria blooms lingered on the fabric in his hands. It was a scent that clung to her skin when they spoke- stronger now, it made him want to fall to his knees. Her closet was filled with more beautiful things like this. She had a sharp eye for fashion, he marveled always at the human urge to have nice things- but it always made sense. In his eyes, she deserved all of them, more so now than ever.
Across her unmade bed was an open leather bound notebook with a satin ribbon splayed between pages. He analyzed her notes, all the subject being research on how to find the Dreamstone, as well as who he was. Other pages filled with dreams she had before. Smudged fingerprints on the edges denoted she was desperate to find a solution before leaving the apartment, atop a page of charcoal with his face haphazardly chiseled into the surface, as if from memory.
She had not lied about seeing his face in books. It was something her brilliant brain figured out long before. And in her bookshelf of trinkets and dream journals, one fell out as he attempted to put it back in place. This was a sketchbook bursting at its seems, large with cutouts from magazines dating back to years prior. He quickly caught it in his hands, checking to make sure each piece was unaltered from falling over.
It was filled with fashion designs. Running from casual to the most high fashion pieces- vintage, ranging in aesthetics, all equally regal. The book was battered and taped with care. If anything, other than the journals, this would be something he’d hold onto.
A soft meow from under the shelter of her splayed dress caught his attention. The tuxedo cat poked his head up at Dream, not in fear of the creator himself.
“And what to do with you?” He marveled to himself, scratching behind the creature’s ear, “I hope Kalea will take great care of you, won’t she? And you, her. I know you will do well, little one. ”
The little beast purred into his touch, leaning his entire weight into his hand. Dream softened, giving some much needed attention to the creature as it lead him to the next room.
At last, Dream entered Kalea’s bedroom- a simple, small bedroom in shades of blush and creme. Fairy Lights dimmed to a gentle gold, surrounding Kalea’s sleeping figure. She was still blissfully at rest, with long tendrils of dark brown curls splaying like ribbons against her pillowcase. The young woman was cozy beneath a white duvet. She shared the same round face, long lashes, and small chin as her older sister. He smoothed a stretch of hair at her crown that stuck upward with the back of his hand, daring to not even touch her. Sabine’s thoughts and memories appointed to her fierce protective nature of her little sibling, who wasn’t little any longer at twenty one. It reminded him of someone he knew very well.
Dream softened as he knelt beside her, nearing her ear.
“On behalf of your sister, I, Dream the Endless, release you from your comatose state.” He whispered, “You shall no longer live with night terrors of the trauma that has entered your family and plagued your heart with grief. You will have an equal balance of dreams and nightmares from now on. My absence has failed your entire family line, and for that, I will ensure the rest of your life here will remain full of light and laughter. Your sister….” The words felt painful to speak, “Will always love you. She wants you to be happy, and knows you will fair well on your own. You shall never be alone. You shall never worry about your eldest sister again. I promise to care for her. Awaken, Kalea. And you are freed from this void for the rest of your life.”
The Dreamstone dud’s glamour feathered off in shades of blue and gold over her body, ebbing away into nothing. With her eyes still closed, Kalea sucked in a deep breath through her nose, scrunching her eyes shut tighter. Dream stepped back, backing further into the shadowed corner of her bedroom, becoming one with the darkness. Kalea slowly opened her eyes, scrubbing the crust that had accumulated in her inner corners.
She blinked many times, rolling on her side to check the time.
“Jesus.” her raspy voice groaned, “Five o’clock on a Wednesday? I’ve been out for two fucking weeks?!”
Dream tried not to laugh. A realistic response, if any.
She rolled over, getting out of bed slowly. Her expression flickered into one of confusion, as her eyes shifted to where Dream was.
“What the fuck?!” Kalea stammered, reaching for the light on her night stand. She clicked it, sending rosy light into the room, but his silhouette was gone. Dream made sur he wouldn;t be seen completely by at least ONE sister in the same span of time.
He stood outside of her brownstone apartment complex, watching as the lights came on in Sabine’a apartment window, feeling a sense of relief that she was safe now.
“So it’s done.” Death mused beside him, her hands planted on her hips, “Kalea’s awake.”
“Indeed.” Dream said dryly, “Are you here for her?”
“Nope!” Death answered happily, “Mr. Copeland on the first floor, far from their place.”
Dream nodded in agreement, “Right on schedule, as always, sister.”
She smiled in approval, patting his shoulder, “You did a good thing there, Dream. It appears you’ve taken my advice in giving back to dreamers. I’m proud of you.”
“It is the least I can do.” Dream admitted, turning to his sister, “For Sabine’s sake, as she traded her life for her sister.”
Death furrowed her brows slightly, “Traded? Is she to remain in The Dreaming alongside you?”
“Yes.” Dream answered with her notebooks in hand, “I will spend every day for the rest of time making it up to her.”
Death paused, eyes shifting as she chose her next words carefully.
“And how?” Death asked in a curious tone, “How will her being kept in your world solve it, exactly?”
“Until I figure out why exactly you refused to take her.” Dream remarked as he pulled a face on his sibling, “... Twice. Once was enough to raise suspicions. But why twice?”
Death’s expression then turned into a smug, mulberry stained grin. Dream scowled at her, his brows pinching.
“Death?” He said in a stern tone, “Why aren't you answering me?”
Death’s cheeky smile only grew, showing her white teeth and shining eyes, “Nothing. I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to!”
“What are you plotting?” He asked in a low voice, “Sabine came to my realm for a reason. What was it?”
“Plotting!” Death parodied his tone, “Nonsense, brother, whatever makes you think up such an accusation?”
“Do not tell me this is something you and Destiny have created behind my back.” he stammered, “This cannot be another project of your creation. I learned that lesson already, you cannot-”
“Would you look at the time!” Death checked her invisible watch, “I can’t be behind for my next appointment. I’ll see you later, little brother.”
She quickly hurried into the doors of the apartment.
“My dear sister!” He snapped in a hoarse voice. The tone frightened a dog walker close by. He cleared his throat, nodding at the passerby as if nothing happened. Frightened, the dog walker pulled their pet closer and scrambled to get as far away as possible. Dream let out a small groan and squeezed the bridge of his nose, walking down the crooked side walk.
Matthew dashed by him, landing in a petite crape myrtle tree, “You’re in for it now, aren’t you, sir?”
“What do you mean?” Dream crabbed, walking in long strides away from the apartment building. Matthew snickered.
“I heard what Death said,” Matthew added, “And I think we both know why she’s here.”
“Enough.” Dream snapped, “There will be no more talking of this.”
“Jeez, I was just kidding.” Matthew uttered, “You seem in a mood ever since she showed up. Are you hungry, boss?”
“I don’t eat.” Dream said in a dead pan voice, entering the street across the apartment complex.
“Then why are you here?”
Dream did not answer as he stormed deeper into the downtown area of Salem, Oregon.
“Is she fairing well?” He asked, a tinge of softness in his voice.
“As much as she can.” Matthew disclaimed, “Well, as well as someone can do when they’ve signed their lives away to a perpetual grump. You broke her heart.”
“Watch your words.” Dream muttered, his shoulders rolling back.
“... Last I saw her, she was in the library with Lucienne. She had an entire list of books on her radar. She didn’t want to stay in her chambers, and she had Lucienne sweating in her waistcoat to find everything she asked for.”
“Keep an eye on her.” Dream commanded, “Keep her away from that section where she finds her own name on the spine.”
“Why would-”
“Can you do that?” Dream raised his voice, “Or shall I ask someone else?”
Matthew ruffled his feathers, “I will. And you know… Down the street here, there’s a good Taphouse that serves a mean farm burger… Some onion rings, and a pint on the side… You should take a look when you’re in the area.”
Dream sighed in annoyance, “If it is not crowded, perhaps I will.”
“What else are you doing here?” Matthew cawed, “Lucienne and Sabine told me to ask.”
“I’m sure they’d love to know,” Dream remarked, “And… I have something I’d like to do for Sabine. She will preside in the north chamber for the time being.”
“You got it.” Matthew said flatly, “Is that all, sir? Before I return to the dreaming?”
As Morpheus stood at the street corner, he recognized a familiar face in the front window of a coffee shop, hiding behind a computer screen. He narrowed his gaze, drowning out the noise of human life onto it, watching a young woman’s face glow against the hue of her laptop light.
Quinn- Sabine’s best friend, was typing search results furiously into her browser. Her eyes were puffy, as if she hadn’t slept in days. The search bar reflected off of her glasses. A journal from Sabine’s apartment was spread open on the table. Quinn paused for a moment, looking up to meet his gaze.
Her expression turned to one of fury as she stood up quickly, taking off her glasses, as she ran out of the coffee shop towards him.
“No, not at all Matthew.” he uttered, “There are some things I must handle alone.”
“Good luck.” Matthew scoffed, “I think you’re in for it.”
Happy New Year's Eve, everyone! I sincerely hope that whatever your plans are today that you are safe, happy, and well. Keep an eye on this account at midnight...
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter VII.
VII. Sleep Debt
Synopsis: Lord Morpheus and Sabine reunite once more under more scathing circumstances. In exchange for her crimes of abusing the dreamstone, Sabine makes an incredible sacrifice.
The sound of grand doors flying nearly off their hinges broke Sabine from her trance like rest. She flinched, her eyes flashing wide open. The room around her was dimmed, mostly by a large silk curtain over a grand glass window. But the air was heavy, despite the soft breeze that lapped at the curtain’s edge.
The sensation sat deep in her breast, as it did when she called upon Lord Morpheus in the hospital for her mistakes. She knew he was here. The weight pooled on her bones like sleep paralysis, as she froze wide eyed in the pitch. Her freed hand pressed to her side- finding the skin to be bandaged, beneath a satin white nightgown with lace atop the bodice. The thin strapped, delicate thing made her eyes nearly pop out of her sockets. This gown was one she imagined months ago- how did anyone know her taste?
“Where is she?” A dark, deep voice echoed from beneath her, beyond the window. Goosebumps raised on her arms and exposed skin at the very sound, as if he were in the same room. Sabine slowly rose, despite the stinging pain of her injury.
“Sir,” Lucienne began, “She is quite fatigued, and her injury is at the hands of the Corinthian. It was a laceration on her ribs. She is in recovery now.”
Sabine’s feet slowly placed down into plush white slippers set out for her. The clothes she arrived in were nowhere to be found. A midnight blue robe hung upon the door of a wardrobe before her. The chill of the room cut across her arms, as she slowly made her way to warm herself, before arriving at the window.
“Bring her to me.” The displeased voice ordered, “I must know how she was able to obtain the false Dreamstone, and how it was created in the first place.”
“She’s barely had any time to rest. She couldn’t walk all the way to these doors without fainting!” Lucienne exclaimed, “It would not be wise to have her see you in such a state until she’s better.”
His voice, as chilling as it was, commanded attention. Sabine’s hand carefully brushed half of the curtain aside and peered down below. She was, in fact, still in the Dreaming. A golden hour strip of sun cast over the realm, blinding her partially. She blinked, squinting to find the source of such a terrifying voice. And how afraid she was, she could not escape her mortal intrigue. Lucienne was the only person Sabine could see between black spots in her vision, but the Lord’s figure was covered by the front fascia. The twinging pain of stitches burned in her side, as she leaned forward down below.
“Was it you, this whole time?” Sabine thought to herself, “Turn and face me, my Morpheus. Why did you abandon me?”
Lucienne’s eyes glanced up towards Sabine, a mixed expression of shock. Her expression was stern, urging her to go back inside. Sabine gasped as a head of black hair turned to look towards her, shutting the fabric curtain between them both.
“She’s awake.” He uttered, “Guide her to the throne room.”
“.... Very well.” Lucienne said in a tightened mouth.
He stormed inside. The further he walked away from her, the lighter Sabine felt. Her hands ran over her chest to make sure her heart was still beating. She hadn’t felt this fear since confronting the Corinthian. But this? What can become of a mortal’s mistakes in the presence of an endless?
Sabine cringed in the shadowy dark of her guest bedroom, running a hand through her hair.
“Shit.” She seethed, wringing the flowing robe to her body close. She closed her eyes a moment to recall the silver of pale skin that caught light for an instance, wondering if it was him. Of course it was him. There was nothing else she could change into to present herself to this figure, but it was too late to ask. She knew she was doomed.
The doors to her chamber opened. Sabine flinched, to find Lucienne entering the room.
“Hello, Lucienne.” Sabine strained her words.
“Hello.” Lucienne managed to maintain some sense of calm. Her eyes darted the room, flickering with fear, “You look well. I take the wound is healing?”
“Uh… Sort of. How long was I out for?” Sabine asked.
“You were asleep for two days.” Lucienne answered, “Well, two days in this time. And you’ve made a quick recovery.”
Sabine’s eyes widened, “Oh god, my sister…. Is he looking for me?”
“Are you well enough to stand?” Lucienne asked, stepping closer to come to Sabine’s aid.
“Yes.” Sabine said, “I’m sorry for my eavesdropping. This window is… Open, and I could hear you.”
Lucienne stepped closer, lowering her voice.
“Lord Morpheus intends to see you immediately upon his return.” She said in a serious tone, “And I will be honest. He is furious. I have managed to explain your circumstances to the best of my ability, but now he wishes to speak to you alone. I made him aware of your condition.”
“How furious are we talking here?” Sabine asked humbly.
Lucienne shook her head, “I cannot tell you that. I can only guide you to the throne room where he waits.”
The walls of his palace were stone cold, but beautiful. A mix of opal hues and iron stiff surfaces. Sabine mindlessly trailed her hand across the wall as she walked beside Lucienne, to distract herself from the fear that began to churn its way through her stomach and intestines. As they approached the interior hall. She grasped the robe closer to her skin, biting the inside of her cheek.
“Is he going to try and kill me?” Sabine asked in a low tone, “.... Not that he can, if Death left me here. She said… She said it wasn’t my time? But he… What else is he capable of worse than death? I can take the punishment of what Kalea’s under. I can do anything but…. Is he really that angry?”
“I cannot speak for him.” Lucienne said, “He also does not know everything about why you achieved the Dreamstone initially. Can you honestly tell him how it came into your possession?”
Sabine took a deep breath and nodded, as Lucienne motioned her to the corner entrance of that main hall.
“I’m sorry for all of this, you know.” Sabine said, “I haven’t thanked you for helping me with my wounds.”
“Don’t apologize.” Lucienne smiled warmly, “The fact that you’ve made such a quick recovery is enough thanks for me.”
Sabine smiled at her one last time, “I hope we cross paths again, if this is the last time I see you.”
Lucienne shrugged her shoulders, “If you ever wish to stop by my library, you’re more than welcome to. I don't mind some extra help with sorting away old books.”
Sabine knew she was stalling. She nodded, turning towards the hall and walking there to meet with the creator of this realm.
The only sound that echoed from one room into the next was the tapping of her footsteps. Sabine’s shoulders rolled back, as she held her head high. Appearances of confidence were one thing. But with each step, her legs trembled. As she entered, there was no immediate sighting of Lord Morpheus, or anyone for that matter.
However, her heart dropped at the beauty of the room before her. She looked up to the throne room ceiling to find it decorated with patterns of purple night skies and glimmering stars. Contrasting the cool white and grey hues of the floors and walls were stained windows of three patron figures she did not recognize. Colorful shades of light shone through at her feet beneath them. She walked forward, swallowed in their glory. Statue figures were carved into each archway leading towards the winding staircase, where a dark throne lay empty.
Sabine was so overwhelmed with the beauty of the room before her, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Tears began to cloud her vision. She remembered walking these halls once before, but everything was much more detailed, bathed in light. But as she approached closer to the winding throne’s staircase, a jolt of fear made her hesitant to come closer. An obscured figure in the umbra looked back at her from the shade beneath the stained windows, eyes glinting reflective light like a cat’s. A chill ran down her spine, feeling suddenly very insecure in nothing but her nightgown and slippers. The eyes bore into every fiber of her body and spirit, winding their way between her fears and hopes. Sabine’s knees felt weak, threatening to buckle before the being. Sabine fought the suffocating sensation of his presence, looking right back into them despite the urge to flinch away.
It was him.
“Sabine Aonani Kanaka.” A deep voice, with the hue of smoke rang through the silence. Sabine sucked in a breath at how sharp it cut through the silence of his chamber, sending a shiver down her spine. And yet- she was intrigued, despite the fear growing deep within her breast.
“What happened to hello? How are you? Are you feeling okay?” Sabine thought to herself.
“Lord Morpheus.” Sabine matched the energy of his tone, staying calm, “I wish we met again under less strenuous circumstances. Lucienne said you wished to speak to me.”
“That is correct.” He uttered in a dry tone with murky hands sweeping behind his back, “I see that you are in recovery from an injury.”
“I was stabbed.” Sabine nodded, “A man with teeth for eyes cut me. The Corinthian, as Lucienne called him. Is he a resident of this realm?”
“The Corinthian has been detained.” Lord Morpheus informed her, “He shall be of no harm to you from now on. He was a corrupted nightmare of my creation. There was no reason for him to harm you that way.”
Sabine’s thumb rubbed against the edge of her robe, something to center her with this information, “You… Created him?”
“The Corinthian is a nightmare of my creation, as is everything in this realm.” Lord Morpheus replied, “Everything you see here is of my creation. He is but a black mirror of humanity. He feasts off fear and harms others.”
Sabine cringed at memories of the Corinthian and his terror he inflicted upon everyone, running her hand across her throat, where he had pressed his blade.
“As long as he isn’t hurting anyone anymore.” Sabine said in relief, “Thank you for detaining him. I tried to stop him, he has some self defense wounds because of me-”
“That is not why you are here. You have taken something from me.” Dream accused, “You manipulated the Dreamstone to cheat mortals of their nightmares and dreams, as all are balanced.”
His glowing eyes bored into hers. Sabine froze before him, feeling her throat tighten.
“I did. But it wasn’t my goal.” She said, “I only wished to reprieve them from night terrors. I am a sleep psychologist. I was only trying to heal them.”
“Your intentions were in vain, Sabine.” Lord Morpheus spoke sharply, “And for that, you placed them in a comatose state and your patient was killed.”
He was straight to the point without hesitation. Sabine admired him for that, as she stood under the lights, looking like a saint before him in satin. He could not fight the anger within his core upon the sight of the young woman, if he dared to look at her any longer, it would break him.
“I was….” Sabine felt bile burn at the back of her throat, “I was trying to find you again.”
“For this foolishness I should have you punished to an eternal slumber as you inflicted upon them.” Lord Morpheus retorted.
“I tried that already.” Sabine said, “My last intention for the Dreamstone was to take my life. I didn’t…”
She began to choke up, her voice cracking in the back of her throat. She looked down.
“And what changed?” Lord Morpheus asked in a cold voice, almost disappointed at the dreamstone copy himself.
“Well, there’s no need to be so disappointed.” Sabine said coolly.
“I asked you a question.” The lord said in a fervent tone, “Answer me.”
Sabine stepped back, her sadness turning into resentment towards this Endless,
“I made a mistake. I put people in harm's way, even with my best intentions.”
“How can I be sure you weren’t lying?” Morpheus inquired, standing firmer.
“I found the Dreamstone through a system of black markets to help everyone I cared about!” Sabine argued, “I tried everything! My entire career has been dedicated to helping people.”
“Please.” Morpheus tutted, “All your mortals care about are your waking lives. You lie, Sabine, and you continue lying about your intentions. Was it always about your patients?”
Sabine paused, feeling the tears in her eyes still.
“I would never go in for it with money in mind.” Sabine stammered, “I gave everything to make sure things would be right.”
“That was not your decision to make!” Morpheus’s voice raised as he stood, “You stand here before me, like an insolent child, as if this study wasn’t going to make you wealthy again?”
Sabine felt the pit in her chest exposed at his words. There was no use in hiding it.
“If capital came I wasn’t going to deny it.” Sabine admitted, “I needed to make sure my sister went through college.”
“And instead, you traded it with your soul and the lives of others.” Morpheus remarked coldly, “Surely, you do not take me for a fool?”
Sabine’s eyes were far from dry, as she felt herself sink lower and lower.
“It was a debt that I wasn’t anticipating.” Sabine spoke truthfully now, “I tried to take my life for what I did, and you want to know why? Because I didn’t feel like I deserved to live after that. And I still do.”
“That can be arranged.” Morpheus disparaged. Sabine shot him a look of sharp, almost black pupils. Morpheus looked into them, seeing a feminine rage that contained millions of dying stars in her dark eyes. She stood, her hands fixing to something, anything to center her.
“Some being you are.” Sabine hissed, “Go ahead and try. Death was the one who sent me here. You can go on about how much you want to punish me, but I’m the one who made that call first.”
A part of her begged to stop, but even in the face of a natural force, she didn’t care.
“And remember when I said I wanted to find you again?” Sabine yelled, “I crossed boundaries between dreams and reality to see you, and this is how you repay me? I never meant to hurt anyone!”
Lord Morpheus scoffed as he took a step closer, “Did Death herself deny you?”
He intended it sarcastically, to shrug off her angry tears. Her response, however, wasn’t anticipated.
“She did, actually.” Sabine said quickly, “She said it was not my time, for the second time.”
The Lord was at a loss for words. In the darkness, he looked away, having more questions than answers provided for him. No one has ever pursued him for so long, with such determination, so foolishly.. He was dumbfounded- it should’ve killed her, ripped her to shreds for taking away her humanity- but she was here, and he did not know why. And he was angry that he didn’t know why. Death was hiding something from him.
“What else did she say to you?” Lord Morpheus asked in a quick tone.
“I don’t remember.” Sabine admitted.
“What don’t you remember?” Lord Morpheus raised his voice.
“If I remembered, I would’ve told you!” Sabine exclaimed, “I don’t know why I ended up here either.”
Lord Morpheus stilled his temper. But Sabine couldn’t.
“You know… From such a beautiful world I’d figure you’d be a lot more benevolent than this.” Sabine thwarted, “I tried to die. I begged for it, to be away from there and closer to you every night. I didn't want to live knowing I’ve harmed others. If you want to kill me, go ahead. I never asked to be here. At least anyone I helped would have a chance.”
He stood silent for a moment.
Sabine huffed and took a seat on the steps away from him, her back facing towards him with a swish of satin white and blue. She shuddered as a cold drawl came over her shoulders. A thin veil of sweat formed on her brow. She was weak, and starving. Only one thought loomed over her.
“Kalea.” Lord Morpheus paced, “She was the root of it all along.”
Sabine wiped the corner of her eyes where tears were forming, “Of course she was the main reason behind it all. She’s had night terrors since we were little. All my family did. I wanted to fix it…. But it ruined them. Consumed them. I lost them all to it. I was the last of my family to dream, and Kalea just wanted to be in peace.”
She looked back over at the Lord with puffy eyes.
“Whatever you wish to do to me…..” She exhaled, “Don’t take her from me. Do not take anything out on her. Let her live a life of normalcy. Please, she’s all I have left.”
Morpheus paused, looking her way. Her beautiful eyes were leaden with tears- years of anger, of fear, and fatigue forming in them. And yet, she chose to be soft. To be kind, even after snapping earlier.
Lord Morpheus spoke in a gentler tone, “It appears you have punished yourself enough for this more than I could ever try.”
“It’s one of my best assets.” Sabine remarked sarcastically, turning back to him.
“It will be done, then.” Morpheus announced, “Your sister will wake from this coma and continue her normal life.”
Sabine’s eyes flustered close and breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you, Lord Morpheus. That is all I wish for now-”
“I was not finished.” Lord Morpheus’s tone darkened, “You will not bear witness to her triumphs and milestones. You shall remain here, in this realm, while she lives her life in the Waking World. You cannot be trusted to return by her side knowing the mistakes you’ve made.”
Sabine’s teeth began to grind in her skull at his calloused deal. The seven stages of grief filled her, remembering all the promises they made to be there for eachother no matter what. It would be gone now, but she would be safe. Kalea would be alone. That was her greatest fear, knowing she would be stuck in this world with a scandal on her coat trails from her mistakes. The Dreaming would finally be her forever home, but at what cost now?
“And my best friend Quinn. Can you ensure her safety as well? She saved my life.”
“That can be arranged.” Lord Morpheus said ominously.
Sabine thought for a moment, wishing she had better words for her girls before leaving them forever.
“Deal.” Sabine agreed flatly, “I shall remain here with you….” Her voice cracked again, emotions running high, “...In this realm. I will not attempt to contact them.”
“Do you believe yourself to fit this agreement?” He asked in an urgent tone.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Sabine choked, “Yes, I do.”
“It is done.” Lord Morpheus said, “Your sister is still in the apartment you share.”
“Last time I checked. I mean, she’s asleep. She’s not going anywhere.” Sabine snipped in a bitter tone. She stopped then, taking a deep breath. Her heart was aching. It felt as if something was pulling on the stitches near her breast.
She was trying to stay calm. Almost too calm. The Endless was anticipating rage, or tears, or anger. He felt it still, the fuse dropping fast inside of her.
“I will attend to Kalea promptly.” Lord Morpheus said, “You are weak still. You need your rest.”
Morpheus pulled a pouch from his side, pouring its contents into his light exposed hands- the same sand she was surrounded by at the ivory gates.
“And I have a condition as well.” Sabine asserted, crossing her arms.
He huffed a small laugh through his nostrils, “And exactly what that may be?”
Sabine stepped closer to him, “Reveal yourself to me. If I’m expected to spend eternity here with you, I may as well know what you look like again. You will never hide from me, Lord Morpheus. There was a time you revealed yourself to me. I need to be reminded again, before you try to alter my memory.”
His eyes seemed to simmer from their glowing silver hue at her request. She had a point. There was no need to masquerade himself before her, as tempting as it seemed to only frighten her. She was already filled with fear- the last thing he needed to do was to keep her in the dark any longer. It was a small request in exchange for her entire lifetime in the Waking World.
“As you wish.” Was all he said, before stepping forward into the light.
Shades of golden orange, blue, and green fell over his shoulder, as he turned to face her. Half of his pale face was covered in shadows, but piercing blue eyes bore into hers. The tall, elegantly shouldered Endless revealed himself before her. Jet black hair fell over his pale forehead and brow, matching the matte black of his coat, pants, and boots. He walked toward her with the air of a panther stalking its prey. His angular jaw and thin lips pursed into an unreadable expression, seemingly glowering at her. The Lord’s slim, angular nose curved down at her. She studied it in seconds, marveling how light bounced off his features.
It was as if the face she saw in her diaries had finally come to clarity, in the form of a beautiful figure. He was beyond a god now, before her, in the form of a sweet dream and a beautiful nightmare. Morpheus’s strong brows curved low above his shining eyes, framed by dark lashes… And dare Sabine assume eyeliner? It was a subtle shade framing his eyes, a soft whisper of charcoal smoke. Urban Decay, maybe? If there was a Sephora in the Dreaming, she would stay forever. The idea of him curling his lashes and applying eyeliner each morning before being such a cold figure was only a distraction to make her laugh from what she truly felt- intrigue and trepidation. He was equally cold and beautiful in disposition, and he looked down at her with almost disgust. Being trapped an eternity with someone beautiful who hated her already was a fate crueler than death. He was beautiful. Too beautiful to take in, as she struggled to breathe. She looked him in the eye, drinking him in, wanting to run, and yet-
“There you are.” Sabine mustered the courage to say, “This whole time, your face has graced my records, farther accurate than all those ancient texts ever did.”
That was only half a lie.
The words spilled from her mouth like vomit, only lazy attempts to dance around one word in particular-
Divine, and hauntingly so; the grace of violent tides colliding with black sea cliffs. With white hot flashes of lighting striking the surface of water within his eyes. She felt herself being pulled into his ripcurl. She remembered their time on the sand, disappearing from his arms and waking up in the sunlight without him.
“How flattering to be able to exceed your aesthetic expectations.” Lord Morpheus remarked in a smarmy tone, “As I have crossed many daughters of Eve, I have yet to see one who carries her humility as you do.”
Sabine paused. Was that a compliment? It rolled off his tongue too easily. As if he were intending it to be an insult, he failed. And he knew.
Lord Morpheus’s expression soured into something cold once more, letting sand sink between his fingertips.
“I must go.” He said, “Return to your chambers to rest. You will need it.”
“Thank you, Lord Morpheus.” Sabine’s voice cracked, as she quickly turned on her heel. A flourish of sand took him away in a flash followed by a stiff wind. She dared not to look back at him, feeling if she did, she would look again too long at the bitten smudge of red on his lower lip.
Sabine wasn’t too keen on sticking around alone. This was a mistake to think such things. Too many feelings at once seemed to cloud her judgment, despite her heart fluttering at his remark. She hurried out of the empty chamber into the hall, feeling heat prick in her cheeks. Her hands balled into fists, blood rushing into them. She wanted him to return. She wanted to slap him across his alabaster face for his audacity after taking her life. She wanted to go home, but there was no home to return to, doomed to such a glimmering agate prison. Tears betrayed her anger, falling from the corners of her eyes like smoke alarms would to simmer the fury within her. In her feelings, she had failed to notice the tall man of straw in her path, crashing directly into his chest.
“Ack!” the figure exclaimed, “Watch it!”
Sabine stumbled back, watching as a mop’s wooden handle clamored onto the floor. She gasped, face to face with a pumpkin headed lanky figure. A puddle dribbled in response, as the being let out a sharp cry of frustration. He appeared with the whimsy of something she’d see in a children’s book many, many years ago.
“Oh, god, are you okay?” Sabine choked on her tears, “I’m so sorry about that, please let me help.”
“I just cleaned that!” He fussed, “You gotta watch where you’re going. You got an astigmatism or something?” He scoffed, “Well, I wouldn’t blame you, from the Lord’s taste in minimalism, this place is like a hall of mirrors!”
Sabine smoothed her hair out of her eyes, “No, I just have a lack of spatial awareness… Here, let me help you, please?”
He shook his head, “No, no, Lucienne told me about you. You should be in bed by now, I can’t let you lift a finger. Especially if you’re in a rush crying like that! Lord Morpheus didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”
His brash nature and strange appearance seemed comforting in the moment. Sabine took a deep breath, still feeling uneasy. But friends would help, in this new life.
“It’s okay. Really, I deserved it.” Sabine was quick to defend herself before the scarecrow, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Mervyn Pumpkinhead, at your service. But mostly everyone calls me Merv.” He said, offering a gloved hand to her. Sabine carefully shook his hand, which was a tight bunch of straw beneath.
“Sabine.” She said, swallowing hard, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Lucienne or Matthew around? Or this library she told me about?”
“Down the hall to your left. But I promised her I’d make sure you got back to bed.”
Sabine frowned, “If I go back to my chamber now, I don’t think I’ll come out to face anyone for a few days.”
Merv shrugged, “I get those days. No one’s gonna judge you for that….” He trailed off, leaning in closer to her, “Listen, I may have swabbed this area two days ago, but I’m a bit of a nosy pumpkinhead… That’s why I’m scrubbing it clean. Tell me… Did you just sign your life away to live here?”
“Well, when you put it like that…” Sabine admitted, “Yes, for my sister.”
“That’s tough, kid.” Mervyn sighed, “But honorable. I’ll give you that.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully again.
“Well, I got no issue cleaning up after you for now. Just… Maybe don’t cry so much down these other halls, I just swabbed them.”
Sabine nodded, “Where can I grieve, then?”
Merv scratched the chin of his orange jaw and hummed, “Well… The West Wing is pretty empty. Not a lot of dreamers stay there. We even have a small garden. But after a certain hour, Dream wanders there.”
“I’d like a book to keep me busy then, if I need to be bedridden.” Sabien requested, “Can I have some book requests, then?”
Matthew entered, landing on the mop’s handle. His sudden flourish of wings scared her again, making her flinch.
“I’ll do it!” He volunteered, “It’s good to see you standing, Sabine. I mean-”
His beady focus shifted on her, catching onto her grief, “How are you feeling?”
Sabine exhaled, forcing a smile, “Thank you. I do feel a lot better but I must go and rest. Lord Morpheus and I struck a deal in exchange for… My sister’s life, over my own. We’ll be seeing more of each other from now on.”
Sabine’s eyes cast to the floor beneath her feet, as the smile plastered on her lips.
“And may I just say, your Lord has a certain way of making me feel welcome.” Sabine added in a satirical tone.
“Don’t mind him so much….” Matthew heartened,, “He can be a bit rough around the edges, but… I talked to him. He understands you were trying to do the right thing. I knew it when I saw you. And trust me, I used to be human too. I know humans are capable of evil, and you’re far from it.”
Sabine smiled softly, “Thank you for that… I’ll take your word for it, but that’s all I want to say for now… Can you just take me to the library?”
“Sure, let’s get out of Merv’s hair for now!” Matthew began to fly, “This way!”
“... I don’t have any hair.” Merv scowled, scrunching his orange brow. Sabine smiled at him one last time.
“I’ll see you around.” She said in a gentler tone, “It was nice to meet you, Merv.”
“You too, sweetheart.” Merv waved. He began to return to his work, just for his boots to squeak from a puddle beneath his feet, “Eesh! He definitely hurt her feelings. You could put a slip and slide down this hallway.”
The remark would have made her giggle if she didn’t ache so badly, walking away from Mervyn. And Matthew knew it well, the grief of having her life taken away swiftly into something else.
“I gotta say, when it comes to books, you'll have plenty to pick from here.” Matthew reassured her, “And Lucienne seems to really like you, so that’s a plus.”
“My safe space as a kid was always a library.” Sabine admitted, “It may as well be so long as I’m here…”
“Well, is there anything you’re into?” Matthew asked, “Genre wise?”
Sabine put her hands in the pockets of her dressing gown and hummed, “Poetry. I like Emily Dickinson, mystery, romance, dark fairytales… I’ve got a list of books I’ve been meaning to catch up on.”
“Oh, well we got plenty of that to go around.” Matthew honked, “Anything in specific?”
“I’m not sure if you’d know it.” Sabine shrugged, “But I’m sure Lucienne would. I could use a change of scenery… You think she’d let me stick around?”
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction Chapter VI.
Chapter VI. Lull
Synopsis: Sabine returns to the Dreaming and is met with compassion and open arms by its greatest librarian. She is quickly rushed to safety and medical attention, but Morpheus's fury is imminent.
Bulbs of black and blue light still flashed behind Sabine’s eyes, as she felt a drifting sun burn into her veins. A cool wind ran across her aching body, where her skin stuck out from tears in her clothes. The world she knew was gone. She was supposed to die. All she could do was focus on her breathing. In, out, in, out. In…… In five seconds, hold for seven… Let go for eight. In, out… Almost out, but what was that noise? A booming echo of metal? Wood? An ancient latch snapping open from a gate? In? Out? In…. Out… If she laid still enough and pretended to be dead, would anyone mind? No, but Death did. Why didn’t she get sent to darkness? Was this purgatory? Her heart palpitated, as she slowly opened her eyes to a barren landscape of greyed sand. Her body ached as she slowly sat up, feeling uneasy in this realm. She remembered this from her dreams so long ago, writing about journals often- but something wasn’t right.
The sound of rustling footsteps across the sand startled her. She froze, her back facing the stranger. She looked down, letting the sand run through her fingertips- the grains feeling almost plush, like a fine powder than beach sand she knew in her childhood years. The footsteps slowed, becoming more hesitant as they got closer.
Sabine swallowed hard, unable to focus her eyes from the horizon. She anticipated the god to be waiting for her there, but he wouldn't have run. He would have made her come to him. The figure knelt beside her- a warm, gentle hand placing itself on Sabine’s shoulder. She flinched, turning to meet the face of something much gentler than a disgruntled divine figure.
A kind faced woman with rounded glasses and rich, onyx skin and eyes greeted her. Her face knit into an expression of concern and awe, lips parted in complete shock. She was unbothered by the ominous terrain, only focusing on Sabine. Sabine flinched back at first, tucking her arm back against a stinging wound beneath her breast. Memories from her dream journals seemed to ebb and flicker, remembering the shape of these glasses before. The woman placed a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. Her touch was comforting, anxiety slowly ebbing away.
“You, again?” She asked, bewildered by the sight of Sabine, “That is impossible…”
“Am I dead?” Sabine asked in a numbed tone, glancing around, “Where am I?”
The woman observed Sabine’s condition, as she met her eyes, “No, my dear, you are very much alive. Which is…. Astounding, to say the least. No human has ever been able to seamlessly bound from one world into another…. Let alone twice. What is your name?”
“I… Twice? What? I’m Sabine.” She uttered, her head still spinning across the landscape, “I’ve made a terrible mistake. I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”
The woman’s chin turned down, looking upon Sabine carefully. Her expression of baffled shock turned into a knowing glance.
Before she spoke further, the figure nodded empathetically, “Well, you’ve come to the right place, Sabine. And I am sure we can figure everything out together. I am Lucienne, chief librarian and guardian of this realm.”
“A realm. I’m definitely not from here. And you said guardian… Are you an angel?” Sabine asked calmly, her emotions frayed from minutes prior, “I didn’t think I’d make it to heaven.”
Lucienne let out a short laugh, “Ha! You are too lovely. No, I am not… I am a dream. Personified. To say the least. Now, I see you have something there in your hands.”
Sabine held up the dream stone, whose surface was dimming slowly, “I asked for death. But…. I’m not sure what happened… I misused this relic for my own… My own selfish needs.”
Lucienne’s face dropped a moment upon the Dreamstone’s appearance. She swallowed hard, soon turning to the young mortal before her.
“I see.” She nodded, “The Dreamstone was meant to be destroyed. We intended it to never reach human hands before. A copy of such power is near impossible. But it seems you’ve been the lucky one to find it.”
“I understand.” Sabine nodded, her voice hoarse, “I accept the charges that come with this misuse.”
“Nevermind that,” Lucienne interjected, “We will figure that out later. But, I must say, it appears you’ve been through a great deal of pain. Are you able to walk on your own?”
Sabine’s legs throbbed as she stretched them forward, feeling stiff. She nodded.
“I just need some help getting up….” Sabine admitted, “If you don’t mind.”
“Not in the slightest.” Lucienne said, rising. She offered her hands. Sabine hesitated, watching the dreamstone flicker and ebb back to life in her possession.
“We can get you cleaned up and your wounds tended to upon entering the gates here,” Lucienne added, “And it appears you need rest. You haven’t been asleep.”
Sabine shook her head, “No, not at all. And my sister, too much, she’s in a coma. I wanted to…”
As Sabine rose, a searing pain erupted in the space of her ribs beneath her right breast. She cried out in pain, clenching the fabric against her, seeing it sticky with blood.
“No more of that now.” Lucinenne said, “I can help you. Just focus on moving forward.”
Suddenly, a raven flew from the edges of the great horn and ivory gates before them. The black feathered bird banked down to them, still flying in mid air.
“Lucienne?” The Raven spoke, “Holy shit. It’s her! What the fuck is going on?!”
“Matthew, no time for questions now. This woman has been injured.”
Sabine studied the black bird flapping before her, speaking with the voice of a human. Someone she would talk to walking by on the street. A human voice coming from the beak of a strange bird. One that seemed to know her as if she were an old friend. Anything seemed to be possible in this new world- between being shanked by an eyeless beige wearing man and a talking animal, she was more than willing to embrace it without question. Even when the sound of his voice hit her like a shovel to the forehead.
Lucienne said in a strained voice, putting an arm around Sabine, “Find Morpheus, and tell him to return to the Dreaming promptly. We have found the dreamstone copy.”
“Morpheus.”
Memories came slowly flooding back into her mind. She began to tremble, tears welling in her eyes,
“All this time…” Sabine whispered under her breath, speaking to neither of them, “Of course he’s here…. I’m so fucked.”
“No, you aren’t. At least not yet.” Matthew
“It’s a laceration-” Sabine stammered, “Ah, fuck! Sorry for my language.”
“Right, okay.” Matthew honked, “I’m on it!”
Matthew flew away into a distance Sabine’s eyes could not perceive, watching him disappear almost immediately. Lucienne nodded, putting Sabine’s arm around her own.
“Are you sure you can walk?” Lucienne asked.
Sabine nodded, “I’ll be fine… I’m more worried about meeting your Lord than my own cuts and bruises.”
“You must rest first. He will ensure your safety so long as you remain here.” Lucienne reassured her as they began to walk, “We must focus on one thing at a time.”
As the two walked through the vast ivory gates to the Dreaming, Sabine couldn’t help but to feel a sense of peace looking at the world before her- with snow capped mountains and isles of green, vast bodies of water and one endless bridge connecting them all within the palm of a grand stone hand, where people walked and talked about, interacting in the realm, passing by her as if it were another day.
And there she saw it in the distance- a shining palace standing thousands of feet before in height, glimmering and framed with human figures from all centuries, of all kinds of life, as well as three stone guardians at its center fascia. Those three leviathans snarled and looked down upon her with hunger in their eyes.
Lucienne firmly pointed to them, uttering a “Tsccht!” loud enough to frighten every dog within the vicinity. They launched back upon seeing Sabine in her injured state, the Chimera looking down with much concern. Sabine’s head began to swim again from the loss of blood to her cut, and spots in her vision began to appear brighter as they walked through the doors of the strange palace.
The last thing she remembered was collapsing on the marble floor, remembering how cool it felt, like when she and Kalea would lay on the tile during hot summer days in Lahaina.
The Lahaina that was now burned, and not a trace left of the legacy they once knew.
“Whatever happens to me, I don’t care.” Were Sabine’s last words before she collapsed again, “I just want her to be safe.”
Then the comfort of an inky, black, dreamless rest welcomed her once more. It lasted then, behind closed eyes, not deep enough to be sleep, but a gentle nap that her soul needed. The only thing she could think about was her sister, still asleep in her bed, not a clue what happened to the world she knew around her.
And what of her beloved lord? Would he resent her now?
Merry Christmas, Happy Yule, and Happy 27th birthday to me! In celebration of my birthday, I have posted this chapter. I hope you are all having a pleasant day, even if you do not celebrate the holiday, I wish you well and sweet dreaming. <3 Had to post at the hour of my birth for this!!!
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter V.
Chapter V. Parasomnia
Synopsis: By the time that the cost of the dreamstone is realized by Sabine, a life is lost. The Corinthian takes his due in response to not getting what he desired most. Sabine calls upon the power of the stone to make things right, to find fate taking her from the Waking World.
Sabine and Quinn stood over Kalea’s sleeping body. Kalea slept stiffly on her back, in the same position as the nights before. The time was three in the morning, as the blaring red of her alarm clock so harshly reminded them. There was a chair under the door handle to her apartment, with several locks bound to its hinges. All windows were dark, latched thrice to keep out the tooth eyed man. Sabine’s eyes were glassy as she stood over her sister, holding the Dreamstone in her clammy palm. Quinn observed Kalea, studying every inch of her. She plucked her eye open, putting a flashlight to it, frowning in response at her glazed pupils.
Quinn gently closed her eyeball and sighed. Sabine was screaming internally, kicking herself for ever letting it get this way. They had tried everything to wake her, but Kalea, sweet young Kalea, was content. Just as Sabine remembered when their mother first took Kalea home from the hospital as an infant, holding her in her arms. She was too happy in that state, dreaming away her life here. Sabine swallowed hard, wiping her eyes. The stone felt heavy in her hand, burning her skin slowly like ice on salt. Memories of the tooth eyed man flashed in her retinas, as her other hand ran across the front of her throat.
“Her vitals are normal, given the circumstances.” Quinn muttered, “How long did you say she’s been this way?”
“Almost a week.” Sabine admitted, “And I haven’t been able to wake her up. I tried everything to wake her up. It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to wake up either.”
Quinn nodded, her head tilting to the side, “That’ll do it….” Quinn heavily sighed as tone went from apathetic to scathing, “What the fuck were you thinking, Sabine?!”
Without raising her tone, Sabine could feel herself falling apart.
She began pacing across the floor, still in her dress from that night, “I just don’t understand… All I wanted to do was take away the night terrors, the nightmares too.”
“Well, you did it too good.” Quinn remarked, “And frankly, I’m not sure how to help you. Do you have anything in those journals that can help?”
Sabine’s phone began buzzing violently in her purse on the counter. She quickly went for it, seeing the caller ID coming from the hospital where Erin was for her sleep therapy. Sabine looked up to Quinn in fear, who bore her gaze down, motioning her to answer.
“Hello?” Sabine’s voice broke the silence of Kalea’s bedroom.
“Dr. Kanaka-” A nurse stammered, “This is Travis, the nurse from Erin’s study.”
“Yes.” Sabine nodded, “What seems to be the trouble?”
“It’s Erin.” The nurse uttered, “She fell into a comatose state. She isn’t waking up, and her son is incredibly upset right now.”
Sabine’s stomach dropped, lips frozen and parted. Quinn took a deep breath and shook her head.
“You fucking didn’t-” Quinn said in a low voice, “Sabine, don’t tell me you used it on her too.”
“We will be right there.” Sabine’s voice cracked, as a part of her soul seemed to chip away in her breast from guilt, “Please try and tell him I can explain. I can make this right, I can-”
“I’m trying`3iu to, Doctor, but he’s very- Sir-” Travis stammered, “Sir, I’m on the phone, please have a seat-”
“What the fuck did you do to my mother?!” A sob stricken voice broke through the static, making her flinch, “Wake her up! Get down here and make her better again! She might as well be dead, thanks to you, you fucking quack!”
Sabine swallowed tears of her own, her chin twitching to the side, “We will be there momentarily, sir. I am not sure why-”
“Not sure?!” he roared, “Not sure?! Bullshit! I don’t want to fucking-”
Quinn snatched the phone out of Sabine’s ear and pressed it to her face, “HEY! We understand there is a complication with your mother, but you do not talk to us like this. She has done nothing wrong. Your mother signed the paperwork with a DNR knowing this treatment would be experimental.”
“I will sue your asses for it then!” He wept, “I’ll sue this god forsaken hospital if I have to!”
Sabine took the phone again and hung it up in a swift motion. A moment of silence fell onto them.
“You don’t always need to come to my defense.” Sabine muttered, sitting down at the feet of her sleeping sister’s body.
“And you don’t need to mess with spooky shit to solve all the world’s problems.” Quin quipped, sitting beside her, “Don’t you remember all the adventure movies we watched and there was a bad guy who was like ‘Hmm, let’s use this thing beyond our understanding to fix our problems!’ and literally made everything worse?”
Sabine ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath.
“You’re right. I don’t know if I can wake her up either.”
Quinn nodded, “We’ve got to do our homework. I think…. I think it’s time I tell you something too.”
Sabine looked up at her friend, furrowing her brows.
“Later. We gotta calm the patient’s son down first.”
After stumbling into some more appropriate clothes, the pair left for the hospital in hopes to de-escalate the fury of Erin’s son- to some success, they did. Sabine held back from using the Dreamstone to ease him, but the last thing she needed to do was ruin another person’s waking life.
Sunrise crept in through the X Ray room on the other end of Erin’s dwelling. Sabine hunched over a desk to observe the recent CT scans, to only find nothing. Her brain was perfectly intact- lucid. With the same gentle smile Kalea had across her lips. It didn’t make sense to Sabine, as she filtered through the ancient texts in her files. Nothing was adding up. And only more misfortune would come onto their families if she didn’t help.
Only one name came to mind. Dread filled her, remembering it appeared constantly. The name she first saw appears in Ovid’s Metamorphoses in university. A second in the texts she scoured to find the relic. A face she could only recall in dreams from years prior before they stopped becoming predictive of the future- one of pale skin, the bluest eyes, and jet black hair, whose lips pursed into dust. Each night she researched this figure, the picture would become clearer, but something held her back… Almost like a barrier. But there was no one else now. She stared into nothing, fingertips softly brushing the cord connecting the Dreamstone.
“Lord Morpheus of Dream.” She whispered softly, “I call upon you for guidance. Help me right the wrongs I’ve created in abusing power that was not meant for me.”
Sabine looked down, seeing the Dreamstone flicker and faintly glow.
She waited still, listening outside beyond the door. Eyes glancing to the windows before her. Hoping to see a face- something, anything to reassure her she did right. The power shuddered off on the floor. Sabine opened her eyes to the darkness, as the fluorescent bulbs burst into nothing over her head. Her breathing stopped, silence ringing so loud in her ears that she could hear her own heart racing.
The only response was glass shattering in Erin’s room. Sabine jumped to her feet, unable to run to the door. She was frozen in her stance, watching footsteps from underneath the office door hurry into the room. A commotion erupted- one of the voices belonging to Travis- suddenly cut off in the sound of a struggle. More crashes of metal, machines falling to their side. Sabine shoved the Dreamstone into her coat pocket before running into the hall. Flickering lights obscured her vision, as she fled down the hallway towards Erin’s room, nearly slipping on a substance between fallen medical equipment. She gasped, catching herself on the wall.
“What the hell?” She said in a near whisper, “No…. no.”
Blood splattered on the walls, painted on her hands, in the treads of her boots, and a sickness fell over her stomach, getting to the entrance of Erin’s room. A scream formed in the corners of her mouth, but no sound came out, as she saw the carnage before her.
Erin’s eyes were gouged out into two bloody pits. As was Travis- whose limp body rested back in the hospital chair, blood splattered over the computer. He must’ve been typing in her vitals.
The blonde headed figure knelt over the sink, washing the blood from his hands in his khaki, without a single stain to them. His back faced Sabine, whistling an old tune like someone washing dishes on a chore day. Blood pounded in Sabine’s ears as she picked up a shard of glass from the ground, clutching it in her right palm.
“Leave this place, you evil fuck!” She said through gritted teeth, a sob making her voice waiver.
The man calmly finished washing his hands and reached for the paper towels as if it were another Tuesday morning. Her blood boiled, as he stood unbothered in the massacre, turning slowly to her.
“Sorry, were you talking to me?” He asked in a cool tone, “Oh. There you are. I reckon you’d be here. “
As he turned, she saw rows of teeth in place of eyes, curling into sick smiles.
“Damn you.” Sabine sneered, spitting at the ground before him, “You bring chaos wherever you go. Whatever power you think you’ll get from the Dreamstone will only bring pain.”
Her tears betrayed her, fogging the edges of her vision. And he had the audacity to laugh, putting his hands in his pockets.
“That’s the whole point of the game, ma cherie.” He mused, “I had an offer after all. All of this could’ve been prevented. But no. You’re the one who had to make this so difficult.”
Sabine’s focus darted to Erin’s son, and his body hunched forward in the corner of the room. She wondered where Quinn was, where anyone else was. If there were more bodies…
Tears fell down her cheeks as he stepped closer. There was too much blood, and he was getting in her head. She created space, stepping back with each step she took forward.
“It’s not my fault.” She said, her voice quavering.
“Oh, but it is,” He laughed, “You mortals always like to make everything so complicated. But the answer’s been in front of you for so long.”
The Corinthian reached forward and traced a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Sabine’s eyes flinched shut, as blood trailed down her cheek.
“Now I have to show your sister what happens when you don’t listen, right?” He hummed with a smug grin.
“What have you done with her?” Sabine’s voice raised, holding the shard in her hands, “Don’t you fucking touch her!”
“Then give me what I want.” He said in a soothing tone, “Before you end up-”
“I never asked for this!” Sabine screamed in blind rage, “You are not of my world! Get out! Leave this place and take your blood with you! Go!”
“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” He said, attempting to grab her. Sabine dodged his grasp, ramming the shard deep into his exposed ribs and running straight towards the exit. The impact of the glass knocked him back, stumbling into the wall, but not for long.
She had spent her life running, and now she was watching herself run from the third point of view. She watched, as her hair came undone from the jaw clip, her curls falling in ribbons over her shoulders. How her rounded face contorted into an expression of grief, palened by fear. The way her coat caught the early morning sun, how long had it been since they arrived? No, she thought, that’s not my coat, my coat wasn’t covered in blood when I came here. She was running from her fears. From relationships. From friendships and mistakes Now from a creature after making a grave mistake. Failure, after failure, now costing lives that were in her hands. Quinn’s voice felt gummy in her ears. Sabine watched Quinn call her. Flashing police lights, distant calls for her to stop. She ran, and her mind was elsewhere with the dreamstone in her hand. Only one request came as she made it out of the hospital wing doors through the emergency exit- sanctuary.
Home. Wonder. Magic. Somewhere she could be safe, somewhere she couldn’t harm anyone else. Somewhere she could dream forever than subject anyone to an eternal slumber again. To punish herself in darkness for harming those. Sabine fled down a dark corner of the alley with Quinn on her heels, remembering a place she hadn’t seen in years, only in dreams in what felt like a lifetime ago. Fragments of a world with ornate ivory gates, rising to the heavens, a palace of stone and strange creatures, bodies of water filled with ship sails and hope. An eternal library full of books she used to stroke the spines of. Sabine’s limbs felt numb as she ran. Syllables melted and gurgled in the back of her throat, a mix between a scream and a cry to god for mercy from it all. The man’s teeth for eyes reminded her of everything that she hated about humanity in herself. Shapes of concrete slab and chipping building paint bulged together into clay textures, as she leaned against the wall, feeling it pull her in like quicksand.
Quinn put her hands to her face, tapping her cheeks- the sensation feeling as if Sabine was in a fish bowl, and couldn’t escape. Quinn’s face blurred into her mother’s face- her mother’s face blurred into her father’s, then her sister’s, then her great great grand aunty who haunted the foyer of their bungalow in Lahina. The Aunty Nina, with sad downturned eyes and browned apple skin, nodding softly in sorrow.
“Aunty, I want to go home.” Sabine whispered, “Aunty, I don’t want to be covered in blood. I want to be with you.”
It was Sabine’s only solution. Her life, in exchange for another. Even if it didn’t have the gates of horn and ivory, into the pits of hell, living wasn’t worth bearing the pain of what she took any longer.
☥
And in a great blast of blue and orange hues, like a cosmic collision, everything went to black. Sabine sighed in relief, welcoming the darkness with open arms, as she felt them carry her tall body as if it were weightless. Rocking, with each step, lulling her. Finally, the veil was thinning. She couldn’t punish anyone anymore for her foolishness. But a gentle hand brushing her cheek stirred her. Sabine opened her eyes.
The face Sabine clung to formed into one she did not know- of rich ebony skin and a glowing ankh, whose thumb brushed back her tears.
“No, my dear.” Death whispered, “You don’t want to die, you don’t want to live this way. Now is not your time. Fate has more in store for you, like I said to you so long ago. Your soul is weary. Rest now, and you will see.”
And Sabine sighed, finally being understood only by the angel of death herself. Her eyes fell closed into a gentle, dreamless rest.
Happy Christmas Eve and Yule to those who celebrate! As a celebration for the holiday, as well as it being my birthday, I have decided to post two chapters this week! :)
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction- Chapter IV.
Chapter IV. Hush
Synopsis: Sabine's brief encounter with a strange man on her one night out turns nearly deadly. What begins as an innocent fling quickly escalates to something darker, one interaction that cannot be detailed within a true crime podcast, but an urban legend. Only then, does Sabine realize the true danger she's put everyone in with the dream stone in her possession...
The afternoon blurred between phases of sleep and consciousness, with Sabine’s mind obsessing over the fears of something being deeply wrong with her sister. But perhaps Quinn was right all along, she thought to herself. She had been working too hard. It must’ve been her own deprivation from researching the Dreamstone’s capabilities and obsessing over the worst case scenarios. She delved too deep to find the Dreamstone, now was the time to celebrate helping a client. The first of many- or so she thought.
When evening came, Sabine found herself seated in a crowded booth with Quinn at her side, laughing over the live DJ playing. She was enjoying the set thus far, her hair pulled back still, her romantic body pulled into a velvet ruched black thing with studded sequins carefully spread across, like a night sky. She was most definitely overdressed, enjoying a martini next to her best friend after spending an hour dancing, trying to ignore the tension forming around her neck from the Dreamstone’s metaphysical weight. It was dark enough to resemble normal jewelry, to her relief, as she took another long drag of her second drink. Compliments were common for the whole night, but many kept their distance. Quinn tittered a giggle, mufflign behind the back of her hand.
“Oh bitch.” She muttered to Sabine, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
Sabine snapped from her trance, “What? What are we looking at?”
Quinn’s full pout curled into a cheshire grin, her stiletto nail pointing across the room, “Mr. Shades over there is giving you the eye.”
Sabine scoffed, “Be for real right now.” Her eyes scanned the crowds, as she squinted to find who she was referencing, “Who are you referring to?!”
Quinn snickered, pinching both sides of Sabine’s jaw in her hands, directing her head to the speakers, “Right there! He’s really cute, Sabine!”
Sabine’s heart sank at the sight of the blonde man from earlier, watching her again. The tall, blonde man with rounded sunglasses from earlier seemed to have found his way into the same club, as if he wasn’t in the same area earlier. Sure, he was charming, there was no doubt about it in that upturned smile and brow that flicked upward. He opted for a darker shade of khaki to pair with his rimmed sunglasses, but refused to pull them down.
“Well?” Quinn remarked, “Are you just gonna stand there like a deer in the headlights or are you gonna go say hi?”
“He looks weird.” Sabine groaned, “I mean, look at him.”
“Exactly!” Quinn teased, checking over her shoulder again, “Oh, I think he’s coming over here!”
The man approached in lean strides. Quinn motioned to him with a swift hand, while Sabine’s knuckles turned white under the table.
Sabine began to shake her head at Quinn, “No, he isn’t. No he isn’t actually-”
Quinn wheezed, thumping Sabine’s arm like the bass did in her ears, “Yes! He really is! Look at him, oh he’s so your type!”
Sabine’s face grew hot. Her hair began to stand on end up her arms and the nape of her neck. A bad feeling grew in her core at the sight of him, wanting to run far away. She made quick attempts to soothe her thoughts with rationality- turning once to down the second half of her martini in hand, before turning to face him. She put on a brave face, feeling the urge to be kind for survival coming over, assuming Quinn would stick by. But alas, Quinn inched away as the gentleman stalked closer. Sabine’s pupils widened, a silent last plea for support.
“It’s been three years!” Quinn mouthed behind his back, “Get some!”
Sabine’s lips curled into a frown of rage as she mouthed, “If you don’t get your ass-”
“Evening, ladies!” The gentleman’s sucrose southern drawl fell over Sabine’s ear. She couldn’t lie- it was sweet to listen to, making her relax.
“Uh, hi!” Sabine disarmed her own thoughts with a nervous laugh, “Sorry, those words weren’t directed towards you, I swear.”
He chuckled, “Not a worry, darlin’. I’m sure whoever it was deserved it. And may I just say, you look as lovely as a Hunter’s moon.”
“Thanks!” Sabine looked up at him, her dimples poking through her cheeks, “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Heh, well, perhaps I should be taking notes from you ladies around here. I fear I might be a tad underdressed.” He motioned to the grey shirt beneath his jacket, an odd combination with sch vintage glasses. Sabine giggled, shaking her head.
“The hair and shades make up for it.” She remarked, “Don’t you worry.”
He leaned against the bar, looking down at her with expressive brows, “Ah, there’s that pretty smile. Do you come here often?”
Sabine was starting to feel flushed again at the compliment, “Well, sometimes. I’m not a regular though, my friends behind you are, but they dragged me out of work for this. It’s been a while.”
“I find that very hard to believe.” He said suavely, “With your graces I’d figure you’d be painting the town red every night.”
His compliments made her head fuzzy, almost as if she had another shot just talking to him, “Aren’t you just a southern gentleman?”
He shrugged, “Comes with the deal, I suppose. I juts came into town myself for a personal project of mine. There’s going to be a convention for my line of work coming up soon, but the stars pointed me in your direction tonight.”
“Really?” She beamed, “I could’ve sworn I saw you near my work today!”
Something clicked in him, as he nodded, “So that was you! I beg your pardon for my prying eyes.” He paused a moment, as if to hold back laughter, “My driver took me to the wrong end of town, and I stuck out like a sore thumb out there looking for directions. You seemed a little tense, and I didn’t intend to frighten you.”
“Oh.” Sabine sighed, “I’m sorry. I don’t trust a lot of men, usually. And it was an intense time at work… You’ll have to forgive me for my rudeness.”
He pulled a chair under for Sabine to have a seat, ushering with his large hand, “It seems we’re all sorts of shaken up today. Something in the planets must’ve gotten to you, sugar. How about a drink, on me?”
Sabine glanced back at her wing woman, silent eyes looking for approval. Quinn was actively ignoring her gaze, talking between her group of girls in shades of gold and orange hues. He leaned in, breaking her focus.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” He insisted, “Trust me. I don’t bite… Hard.”
Sabine softened, seeing something desperate in his suave front. His focus neared down her neck a moment, trailing up. Maybe tonight would be different. She hoped Kaela would stay asleep through their ruckus if it escalated. He was too sweet to turn down, and she tossed better judgment out the window.
“I’d love to join you for a drink.” She nodded, a little rusty in this game of cat and mouse. The man leaned over to the bartender, motioning him to do the work.
“Another french martini for the lady here.” He crooned, “As many as she wants.”
And he was serious. She had three after that, letting herself become spoiled by her unnamed charmer. He whisked her away on the dance floor, hips fluid with respectful hands guiding her arms in gentle sways as she stumbled around and about. And yet, he never once touched his own drink. She became addicted to the free feeling, losing sight of Quinn and her girls as the night moved on. Things became more crowded, as he pulled her to the balcony of the club in a dark corner, pulling her into his arms against the brick wall. She was laughing dizzily, looking up at him with a red face and hair falling out of her updo.
“Slow down, now.” He mused, “You’re going to cause a hurricane here with all that spinning you did on the floor!”
“How can I not?!” She laughed boisterously, “You’re just too good of a dancer, I can’t keep up!”
He smiled, keeping her steady, “You’re smart, you’re gorgeous, and you’re an excellent dancer on top of that? Are men that foolish not to flock to you?”
“You’d be surprised in this era.” Sabine panted, running a hand through her hair, “It’s hookup culture and the longest relationships last under a year. There’s all this talk, and no… Well-”
He leaned in closer, moving hair out of her eyes with a gentle fingertip, “No what?”
Sabine froze a moment, chills going across her collarbones. Her lower lip twitched, as his cold hand pulled away.
“I’m listening, darlin’.” He purred, titling his head, “Come on, call out humanity. Is it these men who chase after one thing?”
She nodded, “How did you know?”
“I’ve worked with people all around the world.” He muses, “Selfish, all of them. But, I can help. I can make things happen for them. Look into their futures and tell them what to do. It takes a bit of soul searching, but-”
“Like a counselor ?” Sabine hiccuped, blinking to focus on his words. Her head was spinning, she could barely focus on him as he spoke to her, his words gummy in her ears.
The man scoffed, rolling his tongue across the inside of his lower lip, “Uh, sure. You can say that. But that’s not what I wanted to say.”
Sabine nodded, looking up at him, “Maybe you can help me too?”
He softened, “Of course I’d help you, sugar doll. What’s the matter? I figured you’d have everything a lady could hope for.”
Sabine’s smile downturned into a frown, “I don’t, Shades.” The nickname rolled through her mouth like vomit, “This is the first time I’ve said this to anyone... But I’m afraid. I’m in over my head at work. I’ve made such a development trying to help people, but something isn’t right. Everyone looks to me for answers, but now I think I’ve made an error. Do you know what I mean?”
Sabine rubbed the side of her face that flushed bright beneath her palm, feeling a tear escape. He reached forward to wipe it with the back of his hand.
“Oh- sh, sh, shhh…” He sighed, “Don’t cry about it, Sabine. You poor thing. Has it gotten that stressful? I’m sure your brilliant mind has something wonderful for humanity. What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Sabine shook her head, “You’d think I was crazy if I told you.”
He grinned, the smile not meeting the top half of his face, “Try me.”
“Well.” She hiccupped, still crying, “I’m a psychologist, and these clients come to me about nightmares. I’ve tried studying them for years to prevent them, but it's so bad, It gets to the point where people don’t even want to fall asleep!”
He pursed his lips, nodding in agreement, “Poor bastards. I can’t imagine.”
“And-and I found something, that can help.” She babbled on, “And I used it. A powerful, ancient thing, but I’m in over my head. And I need so much help. I feel like this wasn’t meant for me, and-”
Her head clicked in the direction of a grinding noise behind his jaw- at least, she thought it was his jaw. A slow, strange chattering that sounded like teeth. He popped his neck, nodding. Sabine’s eyes focused, senses sharper at the sensation, ringing in her ears like nails on a chalkboard. The skin along her arms crawled into goosebumps, nausea slowly seeping its way up into the base of her esophagus.
“I see what you mean.” He agreed, “No wonder you’re so wound tight. I figured it was just the corset in your dress.”
“.... That too.” Sabine admitted, “But you…. You said you could help?”
“That I can.” He reassured, “But my services don’t come for free. You will need a price to pay in return.”
“How much do I owe you?” She asked, “I don’t have my checkbook, but I have some cash-”
Her hands began to dig in her clutch, but he pushed her hands to her sides laughing, “No, no. You can keep all that. My payment is something far, far more precious.”
He pulled her close, almost too close for her comfort- gaze narrowing near her lips, over her face. Her knees went weak under his arm, as she nodded.
“And you promise to help me make it right?” She asked, “It’s…. Not here.” The lie cracked in the back of her throat, “It’s back at my apartment. I can show you my notes. Everything.”
He nodded, “Pinkie promise. Now look at me again, no more tears. Let me see those pretty eyes in a smile again.”
He wiped them away with his sleeve, looking down at her. Sabine leaned into his hand, forcing a small smile. Then it came again, that grinding noise. Something was very, very wrong. She wanted to run. Sabien tried pulling away, but he was too strong. Her body felt like rubber, as her shoulders jerked back. He caught her again. But she had to think fast. A slow, sultry exhale rolle out of her chest, eyes relaxing at him.
“Who are you?” She asked, “You came here at the right time.”
He sighed, as if almost irritated, “Why are you so curious about my name? Isn’t this moment enough?”
That chattering, ear ringing sensation that made her bones grind against each other. It snapped from her fantasy as he leered closer. She anticipated a kiss, but the sound of grinding teeth sobered her to death. Those damn shades were still on. It was beginning to piss her off, his lips only inches away from hers. Something was not right and it wouldn’t be wise to pretend it was nothing. She brushed his suspicions away with a giggle, her fingertip tracing the outline of his sunglasses.
“Then show me your eyes first.” She pleased, “I have to know. I have to remember. Let me guess, you have those eyes with opposite colors. One blue, one green.”
He was humored by her efforts, “Nice try, but keep guessing…”
Her arms wrapped around his neck, as she neared closer, “what about brown? Green? No, wait, hazel! I think I know. You’ve got one blue, one brown. I bet it looks so pretty, so pretty and large-”
The mosquito lights flickered on overhead. His head was at the right angle, just enough to see behind his sunglasses. She anticipated something human like curly lashes and dark eye circles, or dilated pupils, but her blood ran cold. In place of eyes, were two mouths of hungry, white teeth, curled and chomping at the bit behind their concealment. Sabine froze in his arms, her jaw slacking in silent horror at the sight of his unsightly trait.
“All good guesses.” He said, “How about you go ahead and take them off for me?”
Sabine’s throat wobbled at the sight, blinking once, but the sight wasn’t going away. It as real, then, or perhaps she had too much to drink. But as he grabbed for the end of his glasses, she launched herself from his arms. She stumbled back, faking a dry heave.
“Oh, fuck.” She wretched, coughing, “I’m so sorry, I don’t feel so good-”
He furrowed his brows, stepping closer, “Have you had too much to drink? Here, allow me-”
“No!” She cried, “I don’t want to puke on you!”
But he ignored her interjection, grabbing her roughly. Sabine flinched, thrashing herself out of his arms, but it was futile. He lifted her from the ground. She screamed out loud, thrashing her limbs about. The creature dropped her, as Sabine attempted to stumble away, but he yanked her back into his arms whilst pressing a blade into her throat. Sabine gasped as a cold blade pressed into her throat- he had her pinned against the wall, his body pressed into her back.
“Now listen here,” He said in an excited, breathy tone, “You can either make this easier for me, or bloodier for you. Give me the dreamstone around that pretty little neck, and I’ll let you go.”
“You won’t.” Sabine hissed, “What makes me think I can trust you? You’re not even fucking human.”
“.... Good point.” He sneered with a shit eating grin, “You’ll just be collateral damage to me.”
His pale wrist was pressed near her face. In one swift motion, she bit down onto his skin, hard. Hard enough to puncture skin and draw blood. The being cried aloud, letting loose just enough for Sabine to break out of his arms and make a run for Quinn. She fled on fast feet, refusing to look back. His footsteps clapped against the pavement close behind her, but a convenient crowd of clubbers shrouded her- for how long, she didn't have a clue.
Sabine’s eyes filled with tears, her heart was racing. It was no good to show she was afraid now- whatever that was preyed on hers, for the dreamstone. It was a mistake to be here tonight. Quinn was at the bar again alone as she ran up to her.
“Hey bestie!” She smiled, “I was wondering where you went off to.”
“Quinn!” Sabine yelled, “Quinn, we have to go, right fucking now!”
Quinn’s content expression turned to sober confusion, “What? What’s wrong? Is it Shades?”
“He tried to fucking kill me!” Sabine cried, “We need to leave right now. Come with me, I don’t know how much time I have before we lose him-”
Her head snapped around the room, unable to zero in on where the man went. The lights were too obscuring. She failed to see him directly across the room, about to make his way to her. Quinn stood up, grabbing a beer bottle. Two men were arguing beside them, a fight brewing and overshadowing the music.
“When I say run, we run.” Quinn said in her ear, “Do you understand me?”
Sabine nodded.
Quinn gripped the neck of the empty beer bottle and chucked it at the two men in their argument. The shattering glass was enough to get them snapping at each other- a flurry of fists that had a domino effect on the rest of the club, trickling crowds trying to push and shove their way into the action. Yelling and screams filled the air, but only one voice rang clear.
“Run!”
Sabine grabbed her best friend’s hand and ran head first out the club door, with Quinn on her heels. The crowds were chaotic enough to leave the eyeless man trapped in the chaos. She refused to look back again, her hand gripping over the dreamstone. Sabine ran faster than she ever had in her life, towards an open taxi door. She lept into the taxi, followed by Quinn with a slamming door.
“Go, go!” Quinn yelled at the driver, “Please, it’s an emergency!”
The panic stricken driver’s tires screeched as he listened, driving off. Sabine’s jaw ached from becoming so tight with fear. As the car sped off, she looked back over her shoulder to find the man barely running out of the club’s exit doors. Quinn shoved her head back down beneath the seat level.
“What the fuck happened back there?!” Quinn horsley whispered.
“He tried to kill me.” Sabine swallowed, “I think I’m seeing things. He wasn’t right, at all.”
“Okay, we’re going to the police station, right?” Quinn asked in a short tone, “Right?”
Sabine shook her head, “They won’t believe us. He was after something.”
“What? Was he an old client of ours?”
Sabine removed the necklace from around her neck and showed her friend. Quinn’s expression dropped into one of awe, as she looked at the relic closer.
Hi everyone, quick author's note! I forgot to put cuts for "keep reading" on the last few chapters and starting now, it should be a non issue. Apologies for the inconvenience, my faithful readers. Thank you again for your love and support on this fan Fiction!
In the Arms of Morpheus- A Sandman Fan Fiction Chapter III.
Chapter III. White Noise
Synopsis: While Sabine's memories of the Dreaming were taken from her, she has not stopped at seeking the connections between the human mind, dreams, and nightmares. In her waking life, Sabine seeks to find the connection to prevent nightmares of those who suffer from them- her sister, Kalea, being one of them. As Sabine continues her studies, she comes into possession of an ancient amulet in hopes it will finally put an end to the cycle. For Sabine, the dream stone became a flashlight into a dark and uncertain world... However, she cannot see what is looking back at her from within the darkness.
An elderly patient rested in a dark room in nothing but a backless hospital gown, waiting upright in a chamber of salt water, warmed slightly to her preference. White noise filled the space, soothing tension in her shoulders and stiffened neck. Nurses prepared her, sticking small probes to her temples. But she was numbed to the sensation. All she could focus on was her fatigue. Nights were terrors. She spent her lifetime taking stimulants to block them. Nightmares plagued her thoughts, nothing an herbal remedy could repair. But only one was her last hope.
A voice broke over the floor’s intercom.
“Erin?” a gentle voice called over the intercom, “Erin, can you hear me?”
The elderly woman nodded slowly, as the nurse stuck a final probe to her temple. A nurse handed her a microphone.
“Yes, Dr. Kanaka, I hear you.” She said, her voice frail, cataract tainted eyes trailing over to the one way window, where she saw her reflection, and not who stood inside.
On the other end of the tinted glass, the owner of such a tender voice, was that very psychologist. The young woman smiled, nodding in reassurance as if her patient could see her. Dr. Kanaka’s dark curls were pulled back in a chignon, soft tendrils falling loose and framing her rounded face. Small flicks of liner graced her doe eyes. Her rosebud lips pursed softly as she spoke into the microphone again. Her fresh face contrasted fatigue that often came with nightfall, a drop of sun in the dreary observation room.
“Okay, Erin.” She said, “Now, remember what I said to you yesterday?”
“No, not really.” Erin replied, “I’m sorry.”
The sleep psychologist working with Dr. Kanaka heaved a sigh next to her behind the observation booth, pinching her nose.
“No, that was a bad question.” she chuckled, “Just try and relax for us. I know it’s a little odd sleeping in this water, but we’re just trying to study how your brain works when you’re sleeping, okay?”
“I’m sorry if I scream.” Erin said sheepishly, “It gets rather frightening, but the warm water will help.”
“I know it does.” Dr. Kanaka reassured, “That’s why Dr. Mapu and I are here. We’re here to help.”
Dr. Mapu reassured Dr. Kanaka with a glance, despite the doubt behind her eyes.
“It’s time, Sabine.” She uttered. To some, the doctor could come off brash, but it was just her tone. Sabine knew Quinn well to know she wasn’t crass to the old woman’s case.
“You can rest, Erin.” Sabine said as the nurses left the room, dimming the lights to a gentle amber. Camera footage flickered in the screens before them, focusing on both her brain and body. Erin’s wrinkled eyelids fell shut almost immediately as she laid back in the salted water.
Sabine flicked off the microphone with a painted red nail, scratching the neck of her turtleneck.
“Well, here we go.” Quinn sucked a breath, her notes at the ready, “For someone who struggles to sleep, she sure doesn’t have a problem now.”
“She’s been awake for three days.” Sabine replied dryly, studying her patient’s face, “They’re getting worse. It doesn’t make any sense. No brain tumors, no history of dementia or alzheimer's. The trauma we flushed out. But the terrors she describes….”
Quinn’s eyes scrunched into a scowl as she read Erin’s file cover to cover. She shook her head.
“I mean, the depression was terrible obviously. Generational trauma, war, inflation, divorce, miscarriages. We flushed out everything and now we’re onto this occult shit-”
Sabine hushed Quinn as the nurses entered, waiting on standby in case Erin suffered from a heart attack.
“Hello, ladies.” She said, “Oh, and Karl.”
Karl waved in the back, all watching Erin.
Quinn bit back a laugh as Sabine leaned in, jaw tight.
“It is not occult shit.” She argued while mimicking her tone, “I have studied the properties of this stone, aside from those ancient texts from that hair-brained old white man, they have an effect on the human brain. But for what? I’m not sure.”
“That fuckass dreamstone you were talking about?” Quinn remarked, “What, like you went through a mountain on some sort of adventure to find it?”
Sabine paused for a moment. She looked down in her lap, taking a breath.
“It’s going to be a long night.” Sabine muttered to herself.
Quinn ceased to speak, looking at her partner as if she lost her mind. And maybe she was correct. Sabine had been chasing the origins of the dreamstone ever since hearing its origins, making dreams into a reality through manifestation. She slipped into the pocket of her coat, thumbing the icy surface of the crimson gemstone, glowing warm in her hand. Her finger nearly pricked the edges of its golden casing. Her focus was only on her patient.
Ninety minutes passed in silence and occasional small talk, note taking of the brain waves until she descended into R.E.M. Quinn queued in, pointing a pencil to the scanner, Erin’s brain swept in vibrant shades of blue and green.
“She’s doing so good so far.” Sabine observed, “For now, at least. It’s never the first ninety minutes. It’s what happened after.”
Erin twitched, her brows knitting in concern. This was her cue.
“Here we go.” Quinn nodded, “Now what?”
Sabine remembered everything Erin told her- growing up on a farm in Indiana, Sunday dinners and holding hands in prayer. Being carried over the threshold of her first home by her husband. Imagining a world where war never touched her home, where she could see her cats all over again, where she could see her son not be lost to Desert Storm, and her family was together again. The beauty of these dreams. She also remembered what got her through nightmares. Her father’s voice singing her to sleep as a sick child. Holding a crusty cat in her lap and watching television at night. Journal pages to fill it. Reassurance from a kind face to listen instead of calling her crazy. Hands holding each other as she got bloodwork done. A kind smile from a doctor with good intentions. The power was overwhelming, the rush filling her with a state of euphoria- and yet, the power felt natural, as if she spent her entire life missing something, the ruby returning in her hands. A ripple simmered through her core. She watched in delight as Erin seemed to relax.
“It worked.” Sabine said under her breath, “Quinn! Guys! Look over-”
Everyone was asleep. Quinn flopped back, her mouth wide open in a low snore. Which was an unusual side effect of the ruby. Sabine noticed this when she first tested it in her apartment- the entire building barely stumbled out of bed by the time she came home from work that following morning. The intention wasn’t as bold then. She hoped to god someone didn’t crash in their car from falling asleep.
This was the second patient whom she helped. The first was her sister, without her knowing, who suffered from nightmares and darknesses that she would carry to her grave. Now she marveled at Erin, who seemed to relax her entire face into a warm smile. Sabine leaned into the mic, focusing on the ruby.
“Let the light outshine the darkness. You are safe. You are loved. Your brain is in survival mode and you deserve to remember the light.”
Nine hours passed and her brain was at normal levels once more, in comparison from three months prior after suffering from a heart attack out of fear, the difference was night and day. Erin commended her, as well as her second son, who was fatigued but just as grateful.
As Sabine and Quinn exited the sleep center, Sabine found herself yawning, rubbing her eye and forgetting that the eyeliner on the corner existed. She cursed herself.
“Well, you wanna get breakfast?” Quinn offered, squinting her eyes. Both women were tall, but Quinn was tall enough to block the sun, even for a moment.
“I wish.” Sabine sighed, “But I have more notes to make. I think we can adjust the strategy we used today-”
“Girl, be serious.” Quinn put her hands on her hips and stopped her in the parking lot, “Sabine, I have to ask. Are you okay?”
Sabine scowled, “Uh, yeah, why?”
Quinn arched her brow, “You’re throwing yourself into your work. You barely answer my invites to hang outs… You’re obsessed with this whole art, which is fine but like… Is that all?”
“I have to.” Sabine argued, huffing, “People need my help. I found this amazing thing and… I need to reach more people. This could help so many people get rid of their nightmares. Heal them entirely. And have them sleep better from now on. I’ve seen so many patients struggling to find peace at night and I can’t either until we give them the last few years of their life mercy.”
Quinn nodded, her gaze softening, “I’m worried about you, dude. Are you sure it isn’t-”
“No.” Sabine quipped, “It’s not about my grandma, it’s not about my book being rejected to be published. And it sure as hell isn’t about Alex.”
Quinn sucked her teeth, “I’m just saying you’ve been a little too preoccupied. You do this. You don’t want to face what’s head on and focus-”
“If I wanted to be evaluated I’d make an appointment.” Sabine snapped, side eyeing her work best friend. But the insult fell flat, her voice too vulnerable to the jab. A creeping sensation fell over her left shoulder. She checked then, wondering if someone was watching. With the dreamstone in her possession, who knows what could have pursued her? Quinn snickered, her laugh making Sabine want to laugh even though she was pissed.
“God damn.” She laughed, “Maybe while you’re dreaming, you can find that lanky little white boy in all black you mentioned months ago.”
“Oh please.” Sabine rolled her eyes, smiling, “I’ve seen that face at one point in real life, which is why I dreamt it. It didn’t happen suddenly. Probably just some residue from all the fantasy novels I read in high school and wouldn't shut up to you about.”
“Whatever it takes bestie, because you need a bit more fucking whimsy in your life.” Quinn remarked, “Allright, nerd, I’m heading to brunch. You go take your nap, and call me when you wake up. We’re going for drinks.”
“But Quinn, I-”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Quinn said, “Now go and get your juice bottle, get your weighted blanket and rest. You need it.”
Sabine gave in and sighed, “Fine.”
“Atta girl.” Quinn unlocked her car, “Let me know if you see your little Dreamboat again. And ask if he’s got a hot sibling.”
“I haven’t been able to dream anything for years, what makes you think that will change?”
As both friends parted ways, Sabine’s mood dropped- the sensation of being watched crawled up her shoulders and spine, knotting tension into them. She looked to find its source. A man stood across the street, his figure soon disappearing into a crowd of faces. Before blinking, there were two things she remembered. She was overthinking it again. He was gone in an instance.
In silence, she returned to the comforting monotony of her apartment, curled up beneath blankets with her tuxedo cat. As she stared at the floor to ceiling shelves of dream journals before her, her thoughts rummaged back to the parking lot. She recalled the figure. He was a strange man with straw blonde hair and rounded glasses was standing at the edge of the street across from them. She had remarked in her head the sad beige phenomenon memes posted about, recalling his suit. The chummy, customer service smile glued onto his face. Something wasn’t right. Maybe he was new. Or high. Or just odd. She shrugged off the sensation of being watched, returning to sleep again, hoping to discover something new in the world of her dreams.
However, something wasn’t right. She was waiting for a sense of awe to come over, after doing what she always hoped- to relieve those suffering from nightmares to be healed. And yet, something shifted inside her. Kalea, her sister, should be at school. She hadn’t had a text from her all day. She quickly got up from her bed, hurrying to the bedroom across the hall, leaving the little cat to be the dreamstone guardian.
The door creaked open loudly, a dim shade of light washing over the edge of Kalea’s floral bed sheets. There her sister laid, in the same position as she did the night before, when Sabine used the dreamstone, frozen in content sleep. Sabine furrowed her brows.
“Kalea?” she called in a soft voice, “Kalea, don’t you have an exam today?”
The nineteen year old did not respond. Her eyes fluttered, her long hair laying over the pillow in black ribbons. Sabine sat beside her sleeping sister and rubbed her arm.
“Sis, don’t mess with me right now.” Sabine remarked, “Come on. Are you that tired?”
Even as a child, Kalea pretended to be asleep to sneak out of chores and school. Sabine huffed, assuming that it was just that. Maybe the night terror from before was so exhausting, she had tuckered herself out.
