She is having that dream again, her favorite dream. That dream that resolves completely around him. That dream in which he takes her in his arms, holds her impossibly closer to him, rocks her slowly and whispers sweet nothings in her ears, the two of them standing in the middle of her apartment's living room, for some reasons unknown always soaked up in rain and shivering but not minding those minor details at all because they are too busy lost in caresses and light feathered touches. That dream in which he kisses her desperately and she kisses him back with the same need, with the same passion, with the same raw, pure, deep intensity, tugging his lips and capturing his tongue in an endless slow dance.
She is having that dream again, her favorite dream. The one that resolves around Richard Castle brushing his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss after having devoured her lips, looking at her right into the eyes while their foreheads press together one against the other and whispering sweet things against her mouth while his long, warm, soft hands run up and down her back, making her shiver more.
Those words, she can hear them. She is asleep, she is dreaming, it's not real, it's a fantasy, and she knows it, but she can hear them anyway. She can hear those words, those beautiful words he whispers to her in her dreams, those words she is dying to hear, even though she won't admit it, not to any other soul, not to any other human being on the face of this Earth, and obviously not to him, the man she has fallen so hard for.
Those words, those words that undo her, even if they are only to reach her ears when she is with her face buried in a pillow, her hair all messy, with her baggy sleeping clothes being the only thing covering her body and all tangled in light brown sheets, escaping reality for a couple of hours before it comes the time to face it again the moment the alarm goes off.
Those words, God, she dreams of them every night, the words he says to her in her dreams, the words that come along with those kisses that are caresses to the soul.
"I love you"
And she always whispers back "I do more", because she knows she does, deep down she knows she does. Maybe she hasn't admitted it yet: but she knows she loves him. She has known all along.
"I'm sorry I ever hurt you"
And she always whispers back "I know you're sorry, and I am sorry too", because she is. Because she knows that she has hurt him too, in a different level, yes, but she has hurt him too. Maybe he hurt her more, but that is not a reason for her to not have to say she is sorry. Because she is. She is sorry.
"I never meant to do you harm"
And she always whispers back "I know you didn't", because she knows it's true. He never meant to do her harm. Never. Every little mistake he has made, he didn't make it in order to hurt her, upset her or harm her. No, Richard Castle didn't harm her on purpose. He made mistakes, yes, but he never had the intention to harm her. Never. In fact, those mistakes he's made, sometimes she thinks he made them while trying to protect her. From herself. From the past. From her nightmares. From the ghosts that chase then. From her fears. From her insecurities. And other times even from Castle himself.
"I love you, Kate"
And she always repeats back in the sound of a light whisper "I love you so much", because she loves him with everything she's got, with every little piece of her heart, with every ounce of her soul. She loves him. She knows she does. And God, oh, God, does loving him hurt like Hell.
And then she always asks him the same, with their foreheads still pressed together and their lips and noses brushing again one against the other, and that sweetness between them making it all a million times more magical, her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers playing with his head and his arms one circling her waist while the other holds her back, both hands caressing her all over, causing goose bumps to pop up everywhere.
"Will you kiss me all night?"
And the answer is always the same. It comes in the shape of another question:
"Do you want me to?"
Which always leads to the same words:
"Kiss me all night, don't ever let me go"
She begs him to not let her go. She begs him to kiss her all night. And he does. He kisses her all night, in her dreams, in her favorite dream. He kisses her and caresses her and says to her over and over again the most beautiful words.
Every night, she dreams of him.
Because she loves him.
Because she misses him.
Because she needs him.
Because she has let her guard down and he got to her and now there is nothing she can do about it.
Because she has fallen hard for him.
Because she depends on him
Because she is in love with him.
It hurts, yes, but it's the true: she is so in love with him, and she needs him and misses him so much.
Those are the reasons why she dreams of him, the reasons why she dreams of his kisses, those kisses she wishes would have silenced her lips the day he left with his ex-wife instead of the silence that cut her off and broke her heart and soul all within the same second.
She dreams of him every night because she, Katherine Beckett, has fallen in love with him, Richard Castle.
Every morning she wakes up smiling into her pillow, and that smile lasts a couple of seconds, before she realizes that dreams and reality are two different things and that she hasn't spent all night kissing him, that it only happened in her dreams.
Every morning she wakes up and whispers to her pillow once more the words she spent all night saying to him:
"Kiss me all night, don't ever let me go"
Every morning she wakes up and when that smile wears off, before she shakes those thoughts off her head and tries not to think about them, for a brief second she wonders if he has ever dreamed of her asking him to kiss her all night and to never let her go.