The outlines of the dream were misty and inconsistent, a shimmering ring around the focus of what was seen. As was the nature of dreams, the dreamers didn't recognize they were in fact, not in reality. Instead, their subconscious had already given their minds the backstory to the happenings and they blundered through their actions with no concerns of realism.
The man was seated at a time worn bar, scotch at his right hand and head slumped. Patrons around him were shadowed and muted, just figments that should be there. At his left hand was a napkin. On it was written; I miss her. I shouldn't have left.
A sense of utter desolation and abandonment had filled him; he knew that he had been left alone at the bar and that whoever was supposed to have met him clearly hadn't.
The loneliness opened a gaping hole in the dreamers chest.
Out of the fog, the sound of footsteps became clear and the dreamer turned slowly in his seat. She stood before him in a rumpled sort of glory. And, dead center, he could see the outlines of a similar chasm in her chest.
She slid silently into the seat next to him and rubbed her hands together anxiously. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she rested a folded napkin on the bar. It fell open and the words; I miss him. I should have stayed glared at the two of them.
"I'd like that drink now," she murmured to him, facing him with a piercing gaze. Unceremoniously, the man pushed his glass of scotch to her, which she snagged and downed like an expert. As she returned the glass to the worn wood, he took both her hands in his and squeezed tightly.
In synchronisation, liquid warmth spread through both their chest and they spoke at the same time. "I forgive you."
There was a short flare of light and then both dreamers snapped awake, miles away from one another. Sam sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat clinging to his back and his heart caught in his throat. His hands trembled before him, the strange sensation of fingers beneath his haunted his mind. He scrubbed shakily at his face, trying to put the all too real smell of her out of memory. Near his feet, the dog lifted his head and whined quietly.
Outside the city and in a ramshackle apartment shared with Nick, Andy jerked awake and hissed out a breath to calm her racing heart. Curling into a ball around a cold pillow, Andy stared into the darkness of the shared bedroom and swallowed away the heavy taste of scotch. As she clutched the pillow to her, the scent of his aftershave filled her nose and she had to blink away tears. Next to her, Nick slept on obliviously.
She missed Sam.
He missed Andy.
After several hours of tossing and turning, the dreamers were forced to rise from their respective beds and pace throughout their apartments. The dream weighed heavily on both their minds, but was never spoken of. The following day found them both exhausted, in more ways than one, the loneliness a burden on Sam's back and the regret dragging at Andy.
As weeks passed, the haunting dream faded from the forefront but was never forgotten.
Until several days after her return found him seated at the same place by the bar. A scotch was at his right hand, at his left a blank napkin. Memories of the dream welled and he turned to face her as she took a seat. He waited anxiously for her to break the silence.
"I'd like that drink now," she murmured, and he pushed it to her.
With wide, disbelieving eyes, she took the glass and drank it down, placing it carefully on the wood. An equally stunned look had coated Sam's features as that haunting dream played out before them. Taking her hands in his, they stared at each other. However, this time, they didn't not speak in synchrony.
"I miss you; I shouldn't have left."
"I miss you; I should have stayed."
There was a beat.
"I forgive you."
And, unlike the dream, they weren't suddenly awakened. Instead, they witnessed the end which had been mocking both for months. They leaned forward together and so much of their anger and mistakes were forgotten with a kiss.
They never had such a dream again.
There was no need.
No idea where this came from. But I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Hope you enjoyed.