Summary : Summer Roberts has a terrible nightmare, she dreams Seth Cohen kisses her. Oneshot.
Just a fic I wrote when I was bored. Remember the episode The Escape? (It's one of my favorite episodes) What if Summer had a nightmare about Seth Cohen that night... Written in Summer's point of view.
I open my eyes and I see a blurry vision of a ceiling. I don't know why, but I'm smiling. Something good must have happened. Something really good.
Then it hits me. Images of Cohen and I are running through my head. Flirting, kissing, making out. And the worst part is I seemed to enjoy all of it a lot. Hell, it was even me who started it.
This can't be happening. What a horror! Did I just really dream that? That's definitely the scariest nightmare I've ever had. How am I ever going to fall asleep again tonight?
Ew, Seth Cohen and I? That's just insane. Totally impossible. Why on earth do I dream about that? Why?
I have to calm down. I'm freaking out about nothing. It was just a dream, an awful dream. Yea, there's nothing to worry about.
It's probably just, because I've been with him the whole day that's he haunting me in my dreams.
And now I lay here with him beside me on the bed. I still can't believe that. Why did I even agree to this? Well, I couldn't sleep anywhere else and this was the least disgusting place. Yes, that's why I'm here with him on the same bed. I mean, there couldn't be another reason for this, right?
Unless... No, I can't be in love with Cohen. I don't even like him. In fact, the only person who thinks I like him, is Cohen himself and he's mentally unstable. So I have nothing to worry about.
Why does he even thinks he has a chance with me? I didn't give him any signs... Okay, okay, I did kiss him a while ago. But I didn't think then... he just said all those sweet words to me, which made me weak. I probably had drunk a little bit too much anyway... Yes, that must be it, else I never would have kissed him... But I actually don't know anymore if I drank alcohol that night...
Oh, it doesn't matter, I didn't use my tongue anyway. If I would have used my tongue the kiss probably would have sucked. I don't think he ever kissed a girl before... On the other hand he was a very good kisser in my dream, maybe in real life he's just as good... or maybe even better.
Wait... am I really thinking about this? God, I must be sick or something... at least that's what I hope.
I look at him. I could never fall for him. Those brown eyes, that sweet curly hair and that little turned-up nose. Actually, he looks really cute...
Did he just talk in his sleep? Of course, what else could I have expected from him? He always knows how to ruin a moment by talking...
Oh, this is just perfect... Even when he's asleep he doesn't know how to shut up. It's not understandable what he's mumbling in his sleep. I guess there's not much difference between Cohen being awake or asleep. The words he says in day-time don't make sense as well.
I look to the other side, Chino and Coop are lying there... very close to each other. I hate to admit it, but that looks very sweet. What's wrong with me? Since when did I become such a sentimental softie?
I look again at Cohen, he's still mumbling of course. If he's going to talk any louder he's going to wake Chino and Coop... I can't let that happen. They've already gone through enough and if the first sound you hear in the morning is Cohen's annoying voice, you might lose it.
I'm so not going to touch him, so I grab my pillow and punch him a few times with it, but he doesn't wake up.
"Cohen," I whisper.
Still no reaction. I punch him again with the pillow, only harder this time.
"Cohen, wake up."
Does he have hearing problems or something as well? Anyway, this pillow is definitely not the good material to wake him up. I guess I have no other choice than to use my hands. I push him lightly.
"Cohen!"
I get impatient and I think one of my rage black-outs is coming on. I push him really hard, a little bit too hard, because he rolls down the bed and falls on the floor. His fall makes a lot of noise and I look frightened to my best friend and the guy from Chino, but to my relief I see that they're still sleeping.
I bring my attention back to Cohen, who sits a bit confused on the floor, wondering what happened. He rubs his head and opens his mouth to say something.
"Sh," I point to Marissa and Ryan.
He gets up and starts to gesture with his hands, but I don't understand anything of it and just give him a confused gaze. He makes the same gesture again. What the hell is he saying?
"What?" I whisper, while I get up from the bed. I move closer to him to hear him better.
"What are we going to eat for breakfast?" he asks.
That's what he worried about?
"What?" I snapped unbelieving, completely forgetting to lower my voice.
"Whoa, talking about morning temper," I hear him mumble.
I sigh and drag him along out of the room. Before I slowly close the door I look one more time at Ryan and Marissa to make sure they're still sleeping.
Luckily they are.
I walk next to Cohen, while I look to myself in windows we're passing by. I'm trying to get my hair in some kind of shape that looks good, although Cohen probably is the only one who can see me. The street looks abandoned. When I'm finally a bit satisfied about my hair-dress, I glance at the sluggish Jewish boy beside me who's staring at me.
"Ah, the tension between us is undeniable, Summer," Cohen smiles.
He never gives up, does he?
"The tension of whether I will punch you with my right or left hand, you mean."
We walk further towards a chop-house in the distance. I can't ignore that smile on his face any longer and I know I probably will regret it, but I ask him:
"What are you smiling about, goof face?"
"I had a wonderful dream about me and you, Summer," he explains, still having that annoying happy grin on his face.
He stares in my eyes, wondering if I'm going to hit him. I'm tempted to do so, but instead of doing that I raise one of my eyebrows. I'm not sure whether I really want to know what he dreams about me. Maybe he will stop talking if I just give him an angry look. But, well, let's be realistic... it's Cohen. He never stops talking.
"We were on a date, you kissed me and..."
I slap him in the arm, before he can finish his sentence. I feel a little bit satisfied when he makes a face of pain and rubs his arm. Serves him right.
"Oh, way to go, pervert," I look disgusted at him, as we walk into the chop-house, "you just ruined my appetite."
Seth Cohen and I? As if...
