Okay, so you may have noticed that I deleated my previous stories…I appologize! But, recently, I reread those Fan Fictions and – for me – they didn't quite cut it. When I say 'didn't cut it' I mean they sucked. Really, they did. They were extremely undeveloped and there were so many grammical errors and other problems that I was actually embarrassed of them. Ha.

Well, anyway, here's a little somehting that has been brewing in my brain for some months now. I plan to make this once one-shot for a competion on MCBC into a short story. Hopefully this will surpass the Fan Fictions that I've written previously.

Sorry for the inconvience and with much love,

Licole

Pink and white flower petals danced in the wind before me, alight as though gravity was null. However, when gravity was expressed, said blossoms fell beautifully. The mesh of petals blanketing the Mission grounds brought a smile to my face as I repositioned my body to lie on the Mission's rectory bench, cushioning my head with my hands.

It was a quiet, very peaceful day; hands down, it was one of the best I'd experienced in the Carmel springtime. The usually bright and threatening sun couldn't taunt me from behind the leaves of the tree I was laying under, aside from the small slits of light shining through.

I sort of surprised myself to find that I had not chosen the beach for my place of relaxation, but stretching out here, on the bench, just felt…right.

I wasn't sure how long I was resting, looking up at the leaves and visible pieces of the sun through them, nevertheless it couldn't have been five minutes into my daydreaming that I heard a soft movement above my head. I turned on my side to see a ghost of a male, no older than 20 years of age.

Typically, ghosts who looked of this one's nature were seemingly kind, who - in reality - had a hidden agenda, or in time would sexually harass you when you tried to offer your help. But this one, on the other hand, had no unnatural awareness other than the bluish aura around him.

Well, at least none that I could see right away.

His gaze held a mosaic of various emotions that I could not place. Though they were deep, mysterious and aloof, I saw, his eyes were gentle and intelligent as well as loving. In all of this, someplace inside of me had the distinct feeling that the 'loving' part of his stare was only for me.

His clothing selection was definitely different; no doubt that it was at the height of its fashion-empire in the nineteenth century. Bizarre as it was his attire unquestionably brought out the best of the olive tinge in his skin tone, darkness of his hair, tall and fit form, and his dazzling smile. To add to his already mystifying presence I noticed that a grass blade-thin white scar resided his left eyebrow.

For reason unknown I felt my heart lurch happily in my chest, failing to keep a grin from asserting itself from my face.

I sat up instinctively to greet him with a soft, mundane peck on his lips. Then, as if it were an everyday thing, he tookmy hand in his. He lifted our hands up to his chin level before smiling down at me, and lead me into a slow dance.

If the conditions of this day weren't so perfect, I assure you, I would have found his urge to dance to no music a bit…off.

But, when the two of us began to move to the murmur of the breeze that tickled the tree leaves around us, time seemed to stop, leaving in me a sense of tranquility.

We stared into eachother's eyes as we twirled against the magenta petals that were still freefalling from the sky. We spun faster and faster, and we laughed and laughed until finally we slowed to a stop: Mother Nature had chosen that moment to completely end the gentally raining blossoms (they now fell heavily), dancing wind, and slight sighs of the grass and the trees. However, during these changes we did not let go of each other.

Instead, he let go of the hand he was holding in the waltz positon to caress the side of my face and parts of my neck, while somewhat smiling sadly yet lovingly. Without thinking, I raised the now free hand to overlap his on my face.

I looked up at his six foot figure meaningfully, but I found nothing to say to this man who obviously loved me.

What was there to say to a stranger; a man such as the one standing in front of me?

Something tugged at me from inside. I couldn't figure out what it was there for, but I knew that what ever "it" was I knew it was from the heart. I recognized the emotion, though. It felt something like remorse, guilt, and…and sorrow?

Did I want to apologize to this man?

My heart dropped when I'd finally figured out what it'd been trying to tell me. I wanted to apologize…to utter a desperate 'I miss you'.

While my gut told me to come out with it, my mind drew a complete blank and unfortunately, no words came past my lips.

Even if I did find something to say I doubted that it would have mattered. My heart fell even further than the first time when I saw the man's saddened eyes and smile.

I closed my own jade-green eyes as he cupped my face in his hands, and lent down to plant a small kiss on my forehead, then one on my lips. I only opened them when I felt his mouth leave mine.

A single tear fell down my cheek as he took a step back. He wiped away the tear with his thumb, a half-smile on his handsome face.

Slowly, he began to disappear into a pink and blue vapor. I, without thinking, reached out to grab ahold of him, but I was instead grasping air.

And just as leisurely as he did my surroundings slipped out of focus, and soon disappeared into darkness.

-&-

I was suddenly alert, my source of awaking being the reason I jumped about a foot in the air.

"-And if Mrs. Simon would like everyone - as well as herself - to pass the THT's this March, she would do well to pay attention. Wouldn't you agree, Susannah?"

I looked up from where I had been resting my head upon an open book, (With much difficulty, might I add) the pages sticking to the side of my face. I voiced a barely audible 'Sorry' for interrupting the lesson before naturally turning my attention and gaze to a familiar baby blue.

Paul's eyebrows were hiked up in bewilderment; a look that suited him extremely well.

"Everything okay?" he mouthed.

"I'll tell you about it outside." I replied using the same communication method.

A part of me was appreciative of my unexpected cat-nap; I realized about two minutes later that I hadn't missed much. Truthfully, I would have rather listened to Michel and Dominique's WHIMPERING than the History of French Language and its uses and "perks".

Even if the subject had been interesting, I doubted that I could keep my full concentration on it. I was still dazed by the dream I just had.

What did that mean? What did it have to do with anything? When I dream I know it usually implies things that have already happened, or turns out to be some weird, freaky-deque, deja vu. But, what happened in that dream never took place. Hell, I didn't even know who the guy was and I saw the two of us kissing as if we were lovers…kissing him like I kiss my own boyfriend.

Just thinking about another male's mouth on my own made me feel as if I'd cheated on my current devotee, even though it was an innocent fantasy. Or was it? A fantasy, I mean.

Everything that went down felt so real…his soft, caring, manipulative lips on mine…the feel of his silky black hair between my fingers. The rigid wall of muscles I felt through the soft cotton of his shirt…

I prayed that the class would end and soon. I seriously had too much time to answer and analyze every detail of the vision.

I'd never felt anything like it…I could feel - through the dream - my emotions. They were familiar in a way. I remembered having them at a time…but, then again, I felt new ones I hadn't felt.

And now that I'd recognized that I could feel these newfound…"emotions", my heart was trying to tell me something…

"Remember", it seemed to stress to me, except I couldn't…it just wasn't possible. Remembering something that never happened, I mean.

…and it was seriously scarring me.

When Sister Mary-Rose finally signaled for us to let out, I made a silent prayer of thanks, gathered my things, and exited the classroom with CeeCee close behind.

"What was that about?" She asked me once we were out in the breezeway.

"What was what about, Cee?"

"That sudden case of drowziness. I mean, one minute we were passing notes about our devestatingly hot BF's, and then next, I look over and see you face down in your French History book."

"Oh, that. Uh..I was tired and caught a Z." I lied. About being really tired, I mean. I had actually had nine hours of sleep last night, and statistically, the average amount of hours a teen of my age needs daily is about 10 hours. So, I wasn't too far off with the nine as apposed to the perfered amount.

But, yeah, I had enough sleep. Before I'd unexpectedly dozed off, I'd been perfectly wide awake.

Ah, ha! Random Narcoleptia. That's the only way I could describe my falling asleep in class. Nobody would believe this theory, but it was worth a shot.

Once we reached our lockers, CeeCee risked a glance around our surroundings before asking seriously, "Does it have anything to do with you fighting you-know-who's in the middle of the night?"

I was about to tell her 'no' when I saw a familiar face above the heads of other students, and I completely forgot about CeeCee and her question, as well as the confounded delusion I had in the classroom.

When Paul was close enough, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him zealously. I couldn't help but sense a bit of unwillingness, on my part, as we kissed. It felt…wrong in a way…like I shouldn't be making out with Paul.

But why, though? He was my boyfriend after all…why shouldn't I? I didn't do anything wrong, and neither did he…right? Exactly.

Except the unwillingness was too strong, and thus I pulled away a moment later, forcing a smile to cover up my recoil.

"Mmm…what was that for?" He asked lazily, a small grin claiming is face.

"Something to do." I shrugged. "What, you didn't like it?"

"Eh, I've had better." He joked, earning him a mock-punch in the arm from me.

"I hear ya, Slater…" Adam, out of the blue, appeared behind CeeCee with his arms tangled around her middle. "Mine's already started to lack in the lip-locking department, too. What do you think? Should we trade 'em out for new ones anytime soon?"

In response, my friend playfully jammed an elbow into Adam's stomach. "Ignore him. We'll catch up with you two at lunch, alright?" CeeCee giggled as Adam began to walk backwards with her still in his arms, planting little kisses along her neck.

When they were gone from view, I closed my locker and looped my fingers through Paul's, smiling all the while.

"So," he began. "Are you going to tell me about your sudden lack of energy, or do I have to figure it out by myself?"

As the image that I had forgotten swiftly returned, front and center in my mind, my small smile faded. I made a hurried, unplanned glance over to the Mission Academy's cemetery.

My eyes landed on the empty rectory bench beneath the tree were I was laying in my dream; flower petals fell peacefully on the seat…just like I'd seen.

"Suze? You look like you've just seen a ghost…pun unintended." Paul said beside me. I saw him smirking in the corner of my eye, but after a moment he turned to look out into the blossom-infested garden/graveyard, too. "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" I said dizzily. Thoughts, questions, and other emotions laced through my brain trying to work out what I'd experienced. But the more I tried to figure things out, the more I got confused.

Just as I was about to put off the subject for a third time, a hunch formed in the back of my head:

…Could I – no, there was no way. I mean, sure there are some things that I haven't figured out, but surely I couldn't do that…could I? Can he?

Tearing my gaze away from the raining flora I took a quick look around. And just like I'd hoped, we were alone.

I circled to face Paul and said quietly, "Paul, as Shifters we can't go back in time, can we? Or, move forward in it?"

At that, he whipped around pinning me with a stare that I hadn't seen before; I saw amazement, surprise, and bewilderment in his baby-blues until he blinked, disappeared, and was replace by an unreadable one.

What was that? I thought.

"What do you mean?" He inquired slowly and softly, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes narrowed slightly.

"I mean, can we look into the past…at previous lives or something?"

"Not that I've read," he said slowly. "Where is this coming from?"

Though I was kind of taken back by his ill humor, I told him all about the dream: From how perfect the day was, to dancing with an unknown ghost, kissing said ghost, my guilty conscious and grieving state, then finally the phantom's odd dematerialization.

To my mild surprise he said nothing during my spiel. But, I did notice through my story that with each word, Paul's face became grimmer and grimmer while his eyes grew colder, and more distant. To be honest, Paul looked murderous. I mean, really, like he wanted to kill someone.

Who? I didn't know…surely it wasn't about to be me…I did nothing wrong.

On second thought I probably had. I mean, what was up with this pang of guilt that I felt right now? Was it towards Paul because I dreamt about having intimacy with someone other than him, or was it towards the nameless ghost for something I shouldn't have done?

"What did he say to you?" He asked sharply, making me jump.

"Paul –"

"What did he say to you?" He repeated sounding a bit more irritated than before.

I blinked up at him in surprise and bewilderment. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you getting angry with me?" I jabbed an angry finger my chest to emphasize the 'me' part.

Like he usually did when he became frustrated with me he ran a hand through his soft curls. "I'm not mad at you, Suze, I'm just – I need to know if de Silva said something to you, anything –"

"- de Silva?" I interrupted. "That was his name?"

De Silva…why did that name sound so familiar…more over, why did it send a warm fuzzy feeling pumping through my body -

"Paul, you knew who this man was in my dream? How -?"

"Suze, please," Paul pleaded crossly. "That's not the point –"

"Well, what do you want me to do?! How am I supposed to help you, if I don't know how? And besides, what do my dreams have to do with you?! You're lucky I told you anything, Paul!"

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry," he sighed exasperatingly. "I shouldn't have jumped down your throat like that but, Suze, I – I can't tell you why I need to know. At least not right now. Just trust me!" he added sternly just as I opened my mouth to challenge his reason for not being able to tell me.

A moment of tense silence passed before I groaned in defeat. "If you have to know…neither of us said anything to each other. Are you happy now?"

Paul's questioning baby-blues gazed into mine sharply and I shuddered slightly in effect.

He never looked at me like that…it worried me, and it took everything I had in me not to step backwards into the stone pillar behind me. What frightened me most was that I wasn't amazed or confused that this stare frightened me. It was almost as if I expected him to make me feel this way.

But, how though?! How when he'd never looked at me like that before today?!

I drew in a soundless breath, holding it in as we looked at each other. I felt my heartbeat race steadily faster.

For the longest time, all I could do was to be tortured by the smell of his cologne. It's sent drove me crazy as it frequently did; it rendered me speechless and stationary. I couldn't even blink and to my distress, he didn't do anything either.

He only stared as if searching to find some hidden answer within my eyes.

I soon found myself on the defensive…like I didn't want him to find anything that might reveal something more about the reverie, albeit, I already told him everything.

"You think I'm lying?" I whispered icily through gritted teeth.

At this point we were close enough to kiss. And I'm sure that had we not been in this predicament, or in we were in any other situation, we would have.

He looked troubled as if trying to figure out if I would deceive him.

Does he not trust me? I thought angrily. But, while I contemplated this, his eyes returned to the gaze that I knew. This allowed me to inhale and exhale a bit more easily.

Too bad I couldn't say the same for my racing-heart and slight fright of his figure.

We stood like that for a good couple seconds. I'm sure if someone had passed through the long-empty breezeway they would have seen me stiff and probably pale, and my boyfriend across from me staring at me intensely, but thoughtfully.

Oh, it would look very weird indeed.

His name was the word I used to break the silence. His eyes snapped up to meet mine.

For a moment I saw something flicker in them, raising many questions as to what he was thinking. But as quickly as it appeared, the look was gone.

Paul stepped closer to me all the while putting an arm past my head for him to lean on the pillar I was now back-to-back with.

We were so close I could smell the mintiness of his tooth paste in sink with the cologne he wore.

The all memorable feeling of lust surged through my body; I was again, immediately impelled to grab handfuls of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss.

I was utterly craving for a lip-lock. But then again I had a strange urge to be flippant with him, push past him, and walk away.

However, neither of the two over-powered the other; I did nothing as I stood there uncomfortably trapped between his tanned, muscular arms.

In response to my question, he lowered his head and kissed me passionately. He did so with so much, - eumph, is the word? – that I was forced to feel it all the way down to my toes.

I was relieved when he finally did pull away…I didn't think I could bare another second in a kiss like that, especially in the middle of the Mission Breezeway. I highly doubted that Sister Ernestine would stand for my provocative response; my lips burned and ached for more…

"No, I don't' think you're lying. Try not to worry too much about the dream," My boyfriend said quietly, again, slipping a hand in one of my own. "Because that's all that it was…right?" he looked down at me with a smug and hardened gaze.

He made me I feel almost as if I were being interrogated for some heinous crime I didn't commit, so it wasn't like I could just come out and tell him "No, Paul, I don't think it was just a dream…"; but nod my head I did.

Obviously satisfied with my answer, he allowed a half-smile on his face. With one last feel of my cheek, he murmured a distracted, "See you at lunch" before leaving me in the hallway for class.

I watched him round the corner, rubbing the back of his neck deep in thought, then I returned my attention back towards the Rectory grounds; the pink and white blossoms had stopped falling, giving the area a look of eerie beauty.

I lightly touched the cold wood of the pillar beside me, half using the thing for support.

"Yeah…that's all it was." I whispered. My voice and my words sounded foreign to my own ears.

I took one last glance over to the bench I pictured myself sitting on before I too turned my back on what I was sure once was.