He let out a low chuckle at her words, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. His fingers stayed pressed against her pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter of her heartbeat, counting the beats, the seconds in between them.
He could feel her body pressed against his, her breathing still shaky, her voice a soft whisper that made his chest tighten. A strange desire stirring within him, a need to pull her even closer, to hold her against him so tightly that nothing could ever separate them again.
She could feel his chest moving against her, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his chuckle. She could feel the way in which his fingers bounced against her skin to the rhythm of her pulse. His gaze was intense, his eyes nearly burning into hers, and she could feel the weight of his body pressed against her own. There was a strange sort of comfort in the solidity of him.
She felt as though she was floating. His touch, his voice and his presence were all-consuming, all-encompassing.
"What... what happens now?" The words left her lips before she could think.
His fingers remained on her pulse point, counting the beats of her heart. His eyes never left hers. Her question hung in the air for a moment, her voice still shaky, her breath a slight whisper. For a second, he hesitated before answering, "We wait.”
He leaned in closer, his face so close to hers that their noses brushed against each other, the air between them crackling with tension.
"And then... we wait some more."
He was so close to her, his grip on her wrist still strong but not painful, his fingers still firmly pressed against the soft flesh, counting her heartbeats like a silent metronome.
For a moment, she wondered if he was going to lean down further, if he was going to close the distance between them, but he seemed content to stay where he was, his eyes locked on hers.
She swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on him. "For... for what?" She asked, her voice trembling still.
She was staring at him like she was trapped, a deer caught in the headlights. He could see the question in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, and he couldn't help but chuckle again.
He leaned down a little, his lips almost brushing against her ear, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "For the morning, your morning. The moment that dissolves this, like royal water does gold. For whatever happens next.”
She felt his nose pressed against her cheek, slowly rubbing against her skin. He was so close.
"We will be okay." He reassured her. "When the night comes again, when sleep pulls you under, we will meet once more, and we will be okay."
She closed her eyes as his nose brushed against her cheek. His words were a promise, a reassurance, a lifeline in the swirling vortex of her thoughts, and she found herself nodding, a fragile hope blossoming in her chest. "And what do I do until then?”
His nose was still pressed against her cheek, the coldness of his skin a stark contrast to the heat of hers. She could hear his breath, a steady in-and-out that closely followed the rhythm of her own.
He was so close, his breath tickling her ear, "Wait. And live. Live your life until the night comes again, until sleep takes you."
She nodded slowly, her eyes still closed, her mind slowly accepting his words.
There was something divine about it, talking to someone who only existed in her dreams, who may not even be real. Yet, the coldness of his touch, the sound of his voice, it all felt so real, so tangible, that she forgot for a brief moment that this was all just a dream.
She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "And what do you do until then? What do you do until we meet again?”
He was silent for a moment, his face so close to hers that their breaths mingled in the air. There was an odd sense of intimacy in the act, even though they were nothing more than two strangers sharing a dream.
Eventually, he spoke, his voice a low, almost guttural rumble in her ear. "I wait for you. I wait for the night to fall, for you to fall asleep, so I can visit you once more. So I can talk to you. So I can... touch you.”
He smiled against her skin, a smile tinged with longing and sadness, but also hope. "I count the hours, the minutes, the seconds until that moment when sleep takes you, and you're mine again. And for a little while, I will have you all to myself."
She could feel his smile against her cheek, the slight curve of his lips, the soft brush of his eyelashes against her skin. She could feel the beat of his heart against hers.
She could hear the hint of pain in his voice, the longing, the sadness, the hope. It was all there, in the sound of his voice, in the subtle nuances of his words, and it made her heart ache. A strange sense of empathy taking hold of her, even if he wasn't tangible, even if he was just a little more than a mere figment of her imagination.
She turned her face towards him and hesitantly reached up to touch his cheek.
He went still as she reached up to touch him, her fingers soft and warm against his cold skin.
He could feel the fire in her touch, the way her fingers glided over his skin, like water over smooth rocks, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, a silent prayer against the cold of his flesh.
His body tensed, his muscles rigid as she anchored her hand at the nape of his neck, her touch holding him captive like a bird tethered to a perch.
He couldn't look away from her face. The sight of her golden brown eyes burning into his like twin suns, his olive green eyes almost glowing in the half-light.
He could feel the electricity of her touch, the way it seemed to sizzle and spark like flint against metal, but he didn’t pull away, he didn’t flinch. He let her fingers glide over his face, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
His eyes opened at the touch, his gaze meeting hers; for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.
His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, his words a shaky whisper. "What are you doing?"
She could feel the coolness of his skin under her fingertips, the smooth planes of his face, the sharp jawline framing his features. In any other situation, she would've pulled away, his skin inhumanly cold, his features too sharp and smooth, like stone. But right there, in the in-between, in the liminal, she couldn't help it. Her fingers tracing lightly over his skin.
His question hung in the air, his eyes fixed on her face. She didn't answer, her focus completely on the sensation of his skin under her touch, ignoring the subtle pull of consciousness for a little longer.
Her hand traveled to the back of his neck, her fingers on the nape of his neck as she pulled him just a little closer.
He swallowed, his heart racing in his chest as he drew closer to her, his breath mingling with hers, their lips almost touching as he waited for her to speak.
"I'm giving us something to hold on to. Until we meet again."
He moved without thinking, his hand reaching up to trap hers against his neck, holding it there, his fingers locking around her wrist.
He closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers. The touch tentative and fleeting. He could feel as consciousness tugged on her, but he ignored it as well.
Their lips meet in a touch so light that it was barely even a kiss, his lips as cold and smooth as marble against hers. It was quick, too brief, and not nearly enough, but was also real, somehow. Real in a way that dreams were not supposed to be.
She could feel her mind trying to pull her back, the dream slowly crumbling around her, but she fought it, desperately trying to cling onto the moment just a little longer.
She moved closer, her body pressing against his, her free hand sliding into his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft waves.
He drew her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against him.
He drew her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against him. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, the fast-paced rhythm of it making him want to hold her tighter until they melted into each other. He was cold, his skin like ice against hers, but her flesh burnt like a fire. Like the sun.
Consciousness continued to tug at them, pulling at the edges of the dream, reminding them that this wasn't reality, but both of them stubbornly ignored it, refusing to let go. With their bodies molding together, the line between dreaming and lucidity blurred.
She could feel her hands going through him like sunlight through smoke, yet, she could still feel the coldness of his skin.
He felt like he was grasping at a fog so thick he could almost feel its ghostly tendrils on his flesh.
He felt the dream slipping away from them, his body slowly fading into a mist that got swept by the wind. Ephemeral and transient.
He held on to her tighter, his hands clutching ghostly skin as he tried to hold her against him, to keep her near. But the dream was unraveling too fast, and he knew that his time was almost up, that their time was almost up.
For a moment, she could feel her body starting to diss4ripate. She could feel her grasp slipping, the dream fading away, and she grabbed onto him, his arm, his chest, to his hair, holding on to him with every fiber of her being.
There was a moment of panic when her hands went through him, her heart in her throat as the realization hit her. But he was still there, still holding her, his palm flat against her back, his fingers digging into her skin, his grip iron hard, as if he were afraid that letting go would mean losing her forever.
He buried his face against her throat, his face hidden in the crook of her neck, and he inhaled, her scent filling his nose. She smelled like light, like warmth.
She was slipping away through his fingers, her form fading, and no matter how hard he tried, no matter how tightly he held her, he could feel her slipping through the cracks, leaving only coldness, emptiness, in her wake.
His arm was still around her waist, his fingers gripping onto her, holding on to something that wasn't quite there anymore.
He could feel her fading, turning less and less substantial. Becoming a memory, an afterimage. Nothing but an apparition.
Her body faded from his arms, the memory of her, her touch, her scent, becoming more and more intangible, like trying to hold on to sand.
He tightened his arm around her, holding her against him with all his strength. His face buried in the crook of her neck, as he fought against the cold emptiness that surrounded him, a hollow feeling in his chest where she used to be.
It ended as fast as it began.
The last thing he felt was her body slipping through his hands, his fingers closing around empty air as they both faded into the ether.
He was left with her scent, her name trapped on his tongue, and the memory of her touch. With the empty, hollow, aching loneliness that came with being abandoned. The one he was all too familiar with.
He opened his eyes, blinking, as he looked around, finding himself surrounded by nothing but the dark, the silence. The void that only existed in the deep spaces between dreams.
Cold and alone. Completely and utterly alone…
