Solitary Creatures
A moan, a sigh. Twisted golden bedcovers, a fistful. A
grin, a flash of white teeth and pink tongue. Another moan, louder and more
insistant. A lick, a bite, a nip, a kiss on any exposed flesh that a mouth can
reach. Hands caressing, inflaming, soothing, and arousing all at once. A bright
drop of blood on a bitten lip, the result of a smothered cry. Dizzying heights
of passion attempted, attained, sustained, drawn out with enthusiasm. Cooling
sweat on heated skin, another sigh. One final kiss, pure emotion in motion,
lips and tongue dancing. Two bodies curled together on a bed, legs entangled,
each pair of arms wrapped around its beloved, displaying their adoration and
absolute trust in each other to anyone who might see.
But no one could see.
She woke up alone, as always. In the instant between dreams and life, she hoped, as she always did, that today she might wake up to find that her dreams were a reflection of what was, instead of a shadow of what she wished would be. Then, as always, she opened her eyes to her small, solitary bed. She looked around the room for signs of cohabitation and found none. As always.
It had been a lovely dream.
She sighed as she got out of bed, her bedcovers as twisted as though two people had inhabited them, instead of her alone. She went about her daily routine, pretending to put the dream out of her mind. She knew the dream would stay with her all day, and that she would probably have the same dream again the next night. She had had the dream every night for a long time, ever since the first time she saw him.
Him.
His charming smile, his mussed hair, his laughing blue eyes
that saw through her defenses and looked into her soul itself. His strong arms,
into which she longed to throw herself. His very presence, in which she became more.
"You can be more."
In his eyes, she could change the world. In her eyes, he was the world.
A gasp, a whimper. The rapid flutter of pulse as the
heart beats faster under an attendant ear. The sweet glide of skin on skin. A
devilish grin that speaks of untold pleasures yet to come. Hands that roam
restlessly, tickling and stroking at random. Words of desire spoken lightly,
quietly, responded to with fervor. The soft hiccup of a giggle, muffled against
a convenient neck. Lips and tongue employed to reach levels of bliss never
before achieved. Sated bodies sprawled on the bed as breathing slows and hearts
stop racing. Finally, a kiss and a cuddle, two people secure in the knowledge
that love is strong and all is right with the world.
But the world isn't right.
He awoke with a jolt, the loss of the dream an actual physical pain. His dreams had never been so vivid at home. As he did every day, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling for several minutes, trying to burn every detail of the dream into his memory. The dreams were his only link to what would never be, what he wished for more than anything. He knew that he was torturing himself, that his hopes were in vain.
Still, he had hope.
He sighed as he got out of bed, his sheets tied in knots as though he had had a real bedpartner the night before. He held onto the dream as he prepared for the day ahead, knowing that he would keep it in his mind as much as he could. Knowing that each time he thought of her, the dream would follow quickly on the heels of that thought.
Her.
Her sleek, shiny mane of hair, her all-too-infrequent smile, her steely grey eyes that drilled into his skull and collected his innermost thoughts to be examined at her leisure. Her incredible strength and even more incredible beauty, along with the courage and honor that made her who she was. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her forever. But that would never be.
"No means no, John."