Opium
Blue like water, blue like Heaven is all of the time.
I'm all right, I'm just gagging on all the all right.
I'm so happy, so happy.
I'm in Heaven, yeah, Heaven.
It was well into the evening by the time Brett laid down to sleep. Vash had insisted that he stay in for the night, as she wasn't planning on leaving the room's confines. He'd ventured out, only for a short while, to buy a small meal and a bottle of the best whiskey he could afford.
"Get me a pack of cigarettes, if you will," he'd heard her call just as the door clicked shut behind him.
She sighed, pulling the sheet tight. The scent of alcohol was on her, just as it'd been on Vash's breath the moment she'd kissed him. Years ago, she'd learned that whiskey was a force to be reckoned with, but that hadn't been the case tonight. He'd stopped her before she let herself go too far. And not that she regretted the intimacy they shared, but even she knew their desires differed greatly.
Could she love him? Even a little?
The question surprised her; she didn't have an answer for that.
Turning further into the sheets, she buried her face in the pillow, inhaling stagnant tobacco. Despite the offensive aroma, it reminded her of times when she was happy, when everything was perfect. Sighing once more, she felt herself begin to penetrate the surface of a deep, calming sleep.
There were trees. Not like what she'd seen in books, they were much more riveting, the vibrant green contrasting against the bluest of skies. The sun danced between their leaves as a balmy gust skittered by, carrying the scents of lilac and rosemary. Long, arched blades of grass tickled at her bare feet as she lay, basking in the day's glory.
"Hey, Brett," a distant voice called out, but it went unanswered as a shadow momentarily overcast, obscuring her view, a set of thin lips colliding with her own. The warm sensation of a frame caressing hers sent her clasping a hand within their hair, urging for more. As they nipped at the tender skin of her neck, she felt skilled fingers ascend up under her dress.
"Nicholas," she breathed, tilting her dome back in a fit of blind ecstasy. "Nicholas, I..."
"Hey, take a look at this, Brett!" The disruptive voice drew her away, gazing to her far right.
A gasp escaped her lips, peering upward, only to find no one near her. Quivering, she turned back to the voice, and let out a scream.
"Wake up, Brett! Brett!" A frantic voice shook her from the nightmare, two hands grasping at her shoulders. She was shaking, terrified, and drenched to the bone with sweat. She lunged forward into Vash's arms, latching onto him, panicked that she may slip back into the horrifying vision. "It's all right," he assured, attempting to calm her. "It was only a dream."
Once, he made to move, but her grip on him tightened, and she cried, "Please don't go!" For half the night he sat, cradling her there like a helpless child.