Author's Note: I'm back with something new. This is something that I have been itching to do for a while. I really don't have much to say about this one-shot. Because if I did say something, it'd give something away – and I don't want that!
I would also like to say, thank you for the kind words I have gotten from my Elisabeth one-shots. And, I do hope you check out Norrington's stories as well! She and I have been taking on the Elisabeth section of Fan by storm! I love her work, and if you enjoy mine, I am pretty sure you'll enjoy hers as well. [Essen Elisabeth is her forte, too.]
So, enjoy everyone! Reviews are always lovely.
Zwischen Traum und Wirklichkeit
She hated going to Paul's parties. Shake a stranger's hand, smile at some executive's wife, laugh at a joke that she hardly found funny. Everything she did, down to the clothes she wore was to make an impression. If she did something out of line, even the slightest frown, she would get that look.
And it was not from Paul. It was from his mother, the current trustee of the company that Paul worked for. When she died, the company would be under his full control. And being the age of twenty eight, he was already going far. His face appeared in a couple articles of Forbes.
Oh, she loved Paul! Lisa Ester loved Paul from the moment that she saw him. The moment that he came to one of her friend's parties a year ago. She was swaying to some song playing on the radio, a drink in her hand. And he came over and started dancing with her, complementing on how beautiful she looked. They were the only one's sober that night, anyway. He had a cup of water in his hand – minds thought alike, for she did as well.
But what did she get herself into? A year later, she was engaged to the richest person in New York.
After shaking a hand with one of his co-workers, and allowing the fifty year old man to lay a kiss on her cheek, Paul moved her away from the crowd congratulating him on the latest success of his.
"I have to say, Lisa," he said, shaking his head and taking a sip from his glass of water. "You look amazing tonight."
When shopping with Paul, he took her to her favourite place. Though it was expensive, she decided to find something that seemed to complement her and yet look inexpensive. She chose a long, white gown, which resembled a Grecian goddess. It had a beautiful sash that hung down from one shoulder, and swayed as she walked.
"Thanks Paul," she murmured, looking back to him. "And you too."
"Well," he said, chuckling, shaking his head. "Tell me something I don't hear a lot."
Lisa could hardly think of a response. "Well," she paused, "I don't know…"
"Its okay, Lisa," he said, taking a sip from his drink. She could tell he was enjoying the night, but he was not himself when he talked to her in front of public. He was different, he was… formal. Even in small talk, he could not drop face and be informal. It was one of the cons of being with him, sadly.
"So," she said, "your mother can't stop looking at me. Is she waiting for me to mess up?"
Paul took a glance over at his mother, who was currently talking to someone of high stature. They had just caught her eyes on them before she quickly turned away.
He snorted. "Probably, or she's just loving the dress and jealous."
Lisa took this time to laugh bitterly. "I doubt it."
Paul looked back to her. "Well, I am sure that everyone is thinking you are the most beautiful woman, and I am the luckiest man tonight with you by my side."
Lisa shook her head. She got that often. With her long brown hair, her delicate features, and her thin profile… she could be a model!
"Enough of the complements," she said, "go make some small talk. Your mother will be angry that you're not being casual."
"You're right," he said, bending down and giving a quick kiss on Lisa's blush covered cheek. "Where are you going to be?"
"Outside," she replied, "enjoying the air. You know how hot I can get."
"I know," he replied, a bit of undertone to it. She shook her head.
"Enough, now go!" She turned away from him, taking another sip from her glass. She pressed past a group of people. They smiled at her, congratulated her on behalf of Paul. She thanked them, and then continued her way outside.
They had rented out a lovely banquet hall on one of the busy avenues. And outside there was a garden. She liked gardens, and she enjoyed being outdoors. Paul knew of this, since one of their trips was to Colorado. Something she could have never done with the money that she was getting as a journalist to a small local magazine.
Once outside, she took a long sigh of a relief. It was like home to her; somewhere she could relax and be herself. Without people telling her what to do, and without the annoying eyes on her twenty-four-seven, she was plain Lisa.
She took her casual walk through the bricked path, sipping from the water in her glass. Her heels clicking gently on the ground gave her note that she was the only person in the vicinity.
"Lisa Esther," someone said, causing her to jump and catch her breath, her hand coming to her breast. She turned to see a man in a blue satin shirt, black jacket, and black pants standing across the walk from her. He took note of her startled expression, his blue eyes frowning. "I'm sorry, for it appears I have frightened you."
She nodded, taking a breath. "Yes, I'm sorry. I just thought I was alone out here. I didn't see you."
He smiled, crossing his arms and walking towards her. The way he walked frightened her, he was so still. And even though the breeze that passed between them disturbed her dress, it did not disturb his blonde hair that hung low and framing his face elegantly.
"One does not see me, I'm afraid. I tend to blend in," he said, chuckling to himself. Like some sort of inside joke. She smiled, though feeling odd to do so.
"Apparently," she answered back. Her fingers curled around the glass in her right hand. "Do I know you?"
He hesitated for a moment. "No. We haven't, I just know of your work."
"Oh?" she asked, a bit perplexed. Her photo was not included in any of the magazines she had published a bit for. "Well, you must be amazing at identifying faces."
"I am," he said, "I never forget a face." He turned his eyes to the party inside the banquet hall. "I see that you are in hiding?"
She turned her eyes to the party. "Oh! No," she said, shaking her head and sighing. "I just get really claustrophobic."
"I do, too," he said, "I hate crowds. They're so, intimidating…"
"I'm sorry," she said, "this feels really stupid. But you know me, but I don't know you. What's your name?"
"My name is Hayden," he said kindly. He took her hand gently, his touch cool and soft. "Hayden Samael."
"Hayden," she said, testing it out. "You have a nice name, Hayden." He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it.
"You are the first to say that," he said, "thank you."
It seemed so easy to talk to Hayden. He was quite the gentleman too. Who on earth kisses a lady's hand? No body. For a moment, she thought he was a vampire. And she chuckled at that.
"Humour me, why do you laugh?" He asked, dropping her hand.
"Oh! Nothing, I just found it funny that you're kissing my hand, that's all. I mean, people don't usually do that… I guess you can say you're the first to do so."
He smiled. "So, Lisa, as I was saying, you're not in hiding…?" He arched an eyebrow. He started walking, tucking his hands in the pockets of his slacks. She followed him.
"No," she replied, hesitating. "I just don't like being around people I don't know."
"You don't know me," he said, "we just met…" He said, looking over to her.
"Oh! Not that… I mean, I just feel really out of place in there."
"Why?" He asked. She looked over to him, hesitating at his reply again. He seemed awfully nosy, but not in a creepy way. It was pretty genuine, honest curiosity.
"Well, I don't fit in with the whole upper class rich formality business," she said, scrunching her nose. "I just do it for Paul."
"Ah, Paul Joseph," he said, nodding. "Are you dating him?"
"Yeah," she said. "I am."
"Not for long, though," he said with a matter of fact tone. She stopped walking.
"What do you mean by that?" She demanded. He kept walking a bit more, then turning around he smiled.
"You already admitted it. You don't like crowds; you don't like his type of people. Why bother continuing with the charade?"
"Listen," she demanded, "I don't know who you think you are to assume you know something about me. Because, you don't know anything about me, okay?" She finished off her drink of water, and turned around the walk off.
"I know a lot about you," he said, now directly in front of her. Startled, she dropped her glass, the glass cracking against the floor.
She took a few steps backward, and he advanced on her slowly. His feet moved over the glass pieces, crunching them beneath his leather shoes. He stopped a foot away from her.
They stood now, facing one another in the dead silence of the night.
"What are you waiting for?" She finally said, grabbing her small purse and digging around for some money. "Here," she said, pulling out a twenty, "this is all I have. Please, don't hurt me."
He laughed now, shaking his head. "I don't want your money, Lisa. Do I look like someone who would want money?" He asked, gesturing to himself proudly.
She took in his attire, his features, and then slowly put away the twenty. "No, you're right… What do you want?"
"It's obvious," he said simply.
"Me?"
He took a few steps closer to her. His hand reached out and pressed her purse down. She was shaking, and she was sure he could feel it.
His hand slowly went to her cheek, and she flinched. But when his hand connected with her skin, she relished in it. It was so sensitive, seductive even.
"The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Lisa," he said softly. "I care about you."
She laughed mirthlessly, raising her hand and catching his. "Come on," she said, "who are you?"
"I told you who I am, my name is Hayden Samael." He repeated once more.
"And?" She asked. "How do you know who I am? Be honest with me."
"If that is what you want," he tested her. "I am an acquaintance of Paul's, of everyone at the party. I've read every single one of your musings in the magazines that you have written about. I've been looking forward to talking to ever since I saw you at the last couple company parties. But, I've been quite distracted. And so, when I saw you leave, I took it as a chance to meet you."
"Oh really?" She said, raising an eyebrow. He nodded. "Well," she said, wondering how to word what she was going to say. "Does Paul know about this?"
He tilted his head. "About…?"
"Your obsession for me," she said, pulling away from me, "obviously you have some feelings for me."
"You do too," he replied, holding her still, not allowing her to move away. "But, yes, he does, just like he knows about the subjects you write about."
She found him confusing, and she shook her head. But he stilled her before she could say another word. Most girls would find such attention creepy, but on the other hand, she found it comforting. It was not making any sense. You do too was what he said. So what did that mean?
She decided to ignore his statement, but continued to hold onto his hand. His long fingers curled around her own.
"Walk with me," he entreated, "please?"
She nodded, following him. They walked side by side, his shadow seeming to cover her own. She kept her gaze on this.
"If I walk with you, will you tell me more about yourself?"
"What do you want to know," he asked quietly. His eyes distantly looked around.
"I don't know…" She said. "I just feel like I should know you better."
He smiled. "What is there to say? I am single, I am dedicated to my work, I am strikingly handsome, and I am alone."
"Alone?" She echoed. "Really? I wouldn't have thought that."
He looked to her now, taking in her surprise.
"I'm not kidding," she responded, "you seem like the person who has some kind of a romance under the table."
"No," he replied, "I have no time for romance or games."
"Oh," she said. "Then, why the interest with me?"
"Because we are alike, in more ways than one," he responded. "There can be no sin without strife, no light without darkness."
She laughed. "Are you a writer too?"
"No," he responded, "just written about. They are qualities that come from my character."
"All right," she said, "what is your job… really?"
"I am my own employer, human welfare," he responded.
"Oh," she said. A breeze blew past them, causing her to shiver. He looked down at her, stopping for a moment. Slowly, he brought her into his embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.
She could feel his hand slipping around her exposed neck, caressing it tenderly. His fingers playing with the loose curls that fell from her pinned up hair.
"I don't know why, I feel like we have met," she murmured. "A part of me feels…"
"Content," he filled in.
"Yes," she answered back, "but I don't know why. I hardly know anything about you."
"You could learn more," he said, "we have… a long time."
"But the party," she said, raising her head off his shoulder. He frowned, scoffing.
"Lisa, why do you care? You can do anything you want, go anywhere you want, and yet you are confined by their principals. If anything," he lifted his hand to her chin, stroking it gently, "you should be thankful that you are away from it. That you are free."
She was astounded on how well he knew her. It frightened her, but also made her feel so much more content to share anything with him. Anything he didn't already know. She lifted a hand to his cheek.
"I guess I am thankful," she whispered. And slowly she moved her lips to his.
"Lisa?"
The voice stunned her, making her back away from Hayden. Paul stood there, his hands in hands in his pockets glaring at Hayden. Hayden slowly backed away from Lisa, turning to face Paul.
"So, what's going on?"
"Nothing," she replied, brushing a hand through her hair.
"Didn't look like it," he replied, taking a step towards Hayden, brushing his chin in thought. "I'm afraid we haven't been introduced. I'm Paul, Lisa's boyfriend and fiancé."
Hayden's lip twitched, but he remained still. "No, I believe we haven't."
"He said he knew you," Lisa voiced, trying to come back to reason. But Paul held up a hand, his eyes not leaving Hayden.
"I don't know him, and I don't think you should be around him either," Paul said simply.
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do," Lisa replied. This shocked Paul, and it shocked herself. She had never, ever lashed out at Paul. And she was scared with the tone she took. She swore she saw Hayden smirk. "Please, Paul –
"She has a point," Hayden said icily, "respect her."
Paul pointed a finger, searching for words to say. But finding none, he looked back to Lisa. "My mother is wondering where you are. And, I'd appreciate it if you came back inside... and away from him."
Hayden took a step towards Paul. "I would leave."
"This is public grounds, I have a right," he said, ignoring him.
"But she has a choice," he repeated, "and you should be respecting it."
Paul whirled at Hayden, stretching out a hand. But Hayden caught it easily, twisting it sharply. Paul fell to the ground, his face squinting in pain. Lisa gasped, and hurried over to Hayden, trying to pull his fingers from Paul's hand.
"Let him go, this isn't worth it," she cried.
"You are right," he replied, "this isn't worth it… no." He released Paul's hand, causing him to collapse and clutch his hand in pain.
Lisa fell down next to Paul, wrapping her hands around his shoulders. "Are you okay?"
"He's… dangerous…" Paul replied, with labored breaths. "Stay away from him."
"You're not under any danger, Lisa. You know me well that I would never hurt you," he replied.
Lisa hesitated, glancing to both men. One was standing before her, proudly and majestically. While the other, crumpled at her side and in pain. With a lingering touch on Paul's shoulder, she stood.
"I have to go," she said, turning around and hurrying off from the scene. She needed to stay away from both men until she knew what was going on.
She had hurried home to her apartment, locking the bolt behind her. She peered out from the small peep-hole. No one.
She rested her back against the door, sliding gently to the ground. She placed her head in her hand, trying to understand what just happened.
A knock fell against her door, and she was startled. Sliding up, she looked through the peephole at who just knocked. It was Hayden! Quickly she opened the door, looking at him fearfully.
"Did you hurt him?" She asked. "Did you?"
He shook his head, giving a no. "May I come in?"
She nodded, standing back and letting him enter. And he did, and she closed the door behind him. He turned around, looking her over. He looked just as beautiful in the light of the room as he did outside in the dark.
"Are you okay?" He asked, taking a step towards her.
"I feel like you're not telling me something. Tonight, I did some things I never thought I would say. And, things happened that I never thought would happen." She shook her head. "But for some reason, I'm not reacting how I think I should be reacting."
"And how do you think you should be reacting?" He asked her.
"I don't know!" She cried, cradling her face within her hands. "I don't know…"
She felt his hands slide around her own, pulling them away from her face. He looked at her, and slowly tilted her head to her face. Gently, he pressed his thumb against her lip, urging them apart. Slowly, he descended his lips to hers, kissing her passionately.
She wrapped her hands around his neck, pressing her body against his. It was like electricity went through both of them, urging her to stay connected to him.
His hands went to her back, smoothing up and down the silk of her gown. It made her hot, confined. She removed her hands from his neck and to her back, urging her to pull at her zipper of her gown. He did, sliding it down her back and allowing his hands to brush against her smooth skin.
She moaned, and he lifted her up into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom. Once in, he lowered her onto the bed, he started to undo his jacket. Tossing it on the floor, he started to unlink the cufflinks on his shirt. She watched him, clumsily removing them.
"If you are wearing them," she asked, sliding towards him and helping him remove them. "One can only wonder how you got them on in the first place."
He said nothing, but when they were off, he pressed her against the bed, his fingers sliding to the straps of her dress. He removed them, exposing her bare shoulders. He bent his lips down to each one, kissing them at the joint.
Her fingers rose to his silk shirt, unbuttoning it hastily. Parting the fabric, she ran her fingers over his smooth chest. She tore the fabric from the waistband of his slacks. He peeled off the fabric, tossing that on the ground too. He then took his hands to her straps, peeling them down gently, exposing her breasts. They were hidden behind her white laced bra. His fingers brushed over the lace, finding her nipples etching out of the fabric.
His fingers went to the small clasp at the front, undoing it and allowing her breasts to fall free. It was like he knew her body already. His fingers went to each dusked nipple, red and swollen. He pressed at them, moving them around in tight circles.
She shifted against the sheets of her bed as he continued to kneed her breasts and massage her nipples. All the while, she was shimmying out of her dress, difficult as it was. He removed his hands from her breasts and then quickly ripped off the gown, leaving her in nothing but her panties. He tossed it on the floor alongside his discarded clothing.
He sat up, and moved his hands to his pants, but she pulled his hands away. She grabbed his trousers, undoing the button and then zipping down the zipper. He got up from the bed, sliding his pants off leaving him in a pair of very tight briefs. His erection jutting out proudly, wanting to be touched.
She pulled him to her, fishing through his briefs to grab a hold of his penis. The soft flesh was hot within her hand. She slowly brought her hand up and down on his shaft, bringing it to a more prominent rise. He closed his eyes, lifting his head to the ceiling.
She slid his briefs down, exposing his penis, stiff and hard. She grabbed it again, and lowered her head to its tip, licking around it gently. He growled, taking his hand and pressing it against her head, urging her to continue. She slowly brought her mouth around his entire circumference, sucking on it gently. Her eyes roamed to his.
There was something odd about this moment. It was like de ja vous. As if somewhere, she was did the same exact thing with him. But the only other person that she had ever given oral to, or even experienced her first sexual intercourse was Paul. And when she and Paul made love, it was nothing compared to the way her and Hayden were experiencing it.
She cupped his balls, handling them gently, squeezing them in time with her sucking. It was not long after that he exploded in her mouth, his semen spurting copiously. She swallowed every bit. And when his eyes locked with hers, she saw a primitive fierceness.
In a matter of seconds, she was on the bed with him pinned on top of her. Catching her back in his hand, he used his free hand to remove her of her panties. Tossing them aside, they were now naked. His penis was bumping against her thigh, searching for her entrance.
He slid down her body, pushing her legs apart until his head was poised at her entrance. He ran his fingers through her damp curls, parting her sleek folds. She was hot already and wet. Widening her thighs and legs a bit more, he bent his head and inserted her tongue into her warm maidenhood.
She cried out, moaning his name in rhythm to his lapping tongue. His fingers curled around her hips, pulling her in rhythmic gentle thrusts, which only added to the experience. She felt herself growing to a build up, and soon enough, she came. His lips closed over her clit, suckling her own extract.
She felt like she could hardly move. When he pulled away, he then took a finger and slid it inside, pumping in and out. Seconds later, he slid another finger in, stretching her. And at the same time, his thumb caressed her clit in a slow circular motion. She was bucking, and twisting her fingers in the sheet.
Keeping his fingers inside of her, and keeping his thumb at the same pace, he moved his head to her ear. Licking around the edges, and tugging at the lobe, he whispered. "Let go."
This caused her to release on his fingers, coating them thoroughly. She had never had Paul say that to her, and so intimately. She swore that she saw stars.
When she was finished, he rose up and taking his penis, he guided it inside. He pulled her up from the bed, helping her join their bodies together. His fingers found their way to the indent between her cheeks. Pushing his finger inside, while his other digits held her ass cheek, his other free wandered down to the other ass cheek, squeezing it.
She closed her eyes, getting used to the feeling of his stiffened cock inside her. She looked into his eyes and then brought her lips to his, sliding her tongue inside his mouth to meet his. She slowly started moving against him, riding him. Her fingers raked his chest, playing with the buds of his nipples, and then tangling in the soft hair leading down to where they were joined.
He then lowered their joined bodies back on the bed, thrusting into her as she lay on her back. Paul always had her do all the work, but Hayden was quite content on making her feel fulfilled. He took her legs and hooked them around his back, thrusting into her harder.
"Elisabeth," he breathed, "my love…"
Something clicked in her head. "What did you say?" He looked at her, pushing her into a faster pace.
"Lisa," he murmured, "I called you Lisa."
"I swear," she moaned, "you called me Elisabeth."
He hesitated, and then moved a hand to her breast, circling one of her nipples. "And if I called you Elisabeth, is there a problem?" He waited for her to reply, his eyes seeming to turn icy blue. He thrust again, causing her to close her eyes and enjoy the feeling of near release.
"No," she replied, "I like that name… say it again."
"Elisabeth, Empress, my love…"
Empress, my love, Elisabeth… those words, not in that order seemed to click in her head. But why? Why were these words giving her so much effect?
His teeth grazed her nipple now, tugging and it and then soothingly lapping it with his tongue. She moaned, wanting him to do the same with the other. And he did. She wound her hands up into his hair, holding his head down possessively against her breast.
She pondered this thought over and over in her head. If she was an Empress, then of course he would be giving her everything. She smiled, lifting her body off the bed and then pinning him down. Still connected, she sat up, adjusting herself. She rode him, slowly at first, since it was her first time. But learning the pace, she sped up, bracing her hands against his chest.
He was beautiful. It was odd how she was sharing her bed, her body, and her love with someone so exquisite. She was sure he had many women before. But the way he spoke to her, and the way he looked at her, it was like she was everything to him.
"I never felt so free before," she said to him, grunting as she could sense the buildup.
"Good," he said, "I want you to feel free to make your own choices." He grabbed her hips, thrusting into her. He was nearing his own release. But he was waiting for her. She was almost there. A little bit more friction.
She smiled, closing her eyes. "I belong… to me…" She choked out. But as soon as she said those words, she felt as if something clicked in her mind. Soon, memories began to fuse with those she had currently. It was if she was being split in two. She felt stunned, and she closed her eyes.
And then, she knew.
Opening her eyes, she looked down at the man before her. Someone who no longer held the name of Hayden Samael, but of another!
He waited for her to say something. She was frozen in place. She looked around at the room before her.
"What is the meaning of this?" She looked down at him, scowling. "I demand to know."
"Ah, and so it has happened," he murmured, "It took a little bit longer than I thought."
"Where are we?" She said, looking around the room, taking in the sights that were now somewhat foreign to her. "This is not my room!"
"Of course, Elisabeth," he murmured, "it's not your room, but another's… Someone named Lisa and who looks just like you, and surprisingly shares the same fate as you, Elisabeth."
"What is the meaning of this? Is it a dream? Where is my husband?"
"Do you not remember, you ran away from him? You left him alone to fend for himself."
"No," she replied, "I did nothing of the sort. This is a game, is it not? Then why are we joined? Why are we in this bed?"
"Because you wanted it to happen," he replied simply. "For this is all a dream. A future that I created where you could enjoy being free, and content." He thrust against her.
She moaned, biting on her lip. "I see," she replied. "And, did you get what you wanted, Death?"
"No," he chided, "but I was very close."
She hesitated. "And this is a dream?"
"A Midsummer Night's Dream, if you wish to call it," he teased. Finding her not humoured, he looked away. "Yes, it is a dream."
"Where am I? Asleep?"
"Yes," he spat, "laying beside that husband that you care for so much."
"Jealous? So you had to extract some kind of revenge by seducing me in my slumber?"
"You know that I've already had you once before," he murmured, "and that time, you were awake."
He was right. Which is why she recalled it being so familiar. She had made love with him. But this time, in the dream, it was different. More exquisite. For in the dream, their lips had met.
"And, you're not dead, for as long as this is a dream, I can read your thoughts. Which is why our love making was so perfect, my dear. I was allowed to love you like a mortal man."
She said nothing, but the tingling in her loins caused her to twitch. Slowly, she flexed against him, causing him to smile.
"Very well, Death," she said, "you may have my dreams, but you will never have me."
He did not nod, but he understood her. She rode him again, feeling quite powerful. For the first time, she ruled him. And she came, crying out in bliss. He followed soon after, coating her insides with his seed. She could feel it trickling between their joined bodies.
She bent down to him, her lips coming a mere inch from his own. "Now," she said sternly, "end this dream."
"It will end when you want it to end," he said simply.
And it ended.
She opened her eyes, awakening in the dull darkness of her room. It was near morning, and she was resting beneath the sheets of her large bed. Her eyes roamed to the mirror on the ceiling, the windows leading out to the balcony.
But when she turned her head, she saw him, lounging against the wall. He was dressed no longer in the clothes from the dream, but the long blue velvet coat and matching attire.
"Good morning," he murmured, "had a nice dream?"
She sat up, finding her body naked. She pulled the sheet over her breasts, frowning.
"Don't be so cross with me Elisabeth," he said, pushing away from the wall and striding to her. "I know you were satisfied…" He plucked at the sheet covering her breasts. She moved away from him. He sighed. "I dare say your husband was not."
"I don't want to hear it," she replied, turning her head. But he grabbed her head and turned her to look him in the eyes.
"But you will. I will desire you until the end of time, Elisabeth. No matter the reality or the dream we are in. You can continue to play the game that you play with your husband, just remember that when you feel that pull… that desire to be more than you are confined to be. You know I'll be there, waiting for you to make that move."
She wrenched her face from his hand. He crossed his arms.
"I already see you at night, I hate for my mornings to be with you as well."
He laughed. "Oh Elisabeth, I am everywhere. Time means nothing to me, but it does to your reflection."
She turned her head to look at herself in the mirror. Her beautiful long hair falling around her and her hands clutched around the sheets at her breasts. She hardly remembered her night with her husband, for her dream seemed to override it.
When she turned her head, she noticed he was gone. Leaving her alone to ponder the meaning behind dream and reality…