A/N: This story was written in the wee hours of the morning out of sheer boredom. It's short and not so sweet. I may continue if needed.
Disclaimer: Shout out to William Shakespeare for the incorporation of his line from A Midsummer Night's Dream!
He let her soft blonde tresses mingle within his brown locks. He held her close to his body, their breathing slowly aligning. Her eyes did not meet his; they flitted around his arms and then his shoulders. He murmured things she did not hear as she softly kissed his neck. Alfredo Aldarisio had never held a woman this close to him before. Olive Snook held on tightly too him. As if someone was going to come and snatch her away from his embrace. She closed her eyes and nestled onto his chest.
"You know this could never work." He said without moving. She pulled him closer.
"I know 'Fredo, I know." Her blue eyes locked with his for the first time. "Could we at least try?" He broke their gaze and scratched his head.
"I don't know. I really don't know. The course of true love never did run smooth."
"I guess Shakespeare was right, huh?" They both chuckled a little, but it began to set in that there fairytale love was nothing more than a summer fling.
"I don't need the Pie Hole." Alfredo raised an eyebrow to Olive whose mood had changed suddenly. "I don't need any of that anymore."
"I don't think I understand Olive."
"I want to be with you Alfredo."
"As do I Olive. But things don't work out that way."
"Yeah? And why not?" Olive had worked her way out of his embrace. Alfredo found himself facing 97 pounds of angry woman. He had awoken the beast from within.
"Look if you aren't going to try and make this work, then I don't see why I should."
She grabbed her coat which was draped over a small chair and walked out the door. He heard her heels clack against the tile until they vanished. The room got lighter and lighter. The room began evaporating piece by piece. First the coffee table, then the lamp. Alfredo was engulfed in pure white light until there was an explosion, immersing him in utter darkness.
A pinging noise rang throughout his ears. It was seven thirty am, and he was alone. He was not on his living room couch as he had thought. He recognized the striped bedding that encased his single body. He slowly shuffled to the living room to realize that no one was with him. The furniture was all the same as it had been the day before, and the day before that and so on. He rung his hands once and got back into bed, slowly realizing that she had never been there.
She was gone in the dream, and in real life.