I'm trying really hard to get this done today or tomorrow!

I own nothing.

beginning. accusation. restless. snowflake. haze. flame. formal. companion. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. wind. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. sunset. mad. thousand. outside. winter. diamond. letters. promise. simple. future.


Wind

Mary stretches lazily, happily tilting her head back to meet the sun's rays. She smiles softly, enjoying the warmth on her skin. Her smile stretches into a grin and her eyes pop open when she feels lips on her cheek, right near the corner of her mouth. "What was that for?" she asks.

Bert shrugs. "I wanted to. Didn't think you'd mind."

"Never."

He tugs her into his embrace. Settling between his legs, she leans back against his solid chest and delights in the feeling of his arms around her waist. He brushes lips against the back of her neck, right below her hairline. She shudders and he chuckles, which doesn't help the shuddering situation since she feels his laughter ripple through her body.

"I love you," he whispers into her ear. She smiles again and a slight breeze starts to play with the tendrils of her hair.

"Not now," she groans. "Please, not now."

The wind becomes more insistent and Bert's hold on her waist tightens for a moment. "It's time?" he asks.

"I don't want to go!" she complains.

"Mary, love, we'll always 'ave our Tuesdays."

"That isn't enough!"

He tries to let go of her waist, but she turns and grabs at his arms desperately. The wind begins to pick up even more, blowing leaves down from the trees. She begins to wince as the tugging on her body becomes painful. "Mary, please," he begs. "Go. You're 'urting. I'll be 'ere when you come back. I always will."

"Promise me."

"I promise," he nods. "I'll promise you whatever you want. I love you, Mary."

"I love you too, Bert."

She leans in for one last kiss…

And wakes up.

Mary groans in frustration. This is the fourth time she's had this dream and the fourth time she's woken up before his lips touch hers. The wind can't blow her back to London soon enough.