Hot…
So… hot…
I was in a vast desert, sprawling out in all directions as far as I could see. Nothing but sand everywhere. The sun beat down on me, causing me to sweat. I could feel the temperature slowly rising, degree by degree, bringing me closer and closer to dehydration.
Wiping my forehead of sweat, I cried out, trying to alert anyone that I was there, that I was real.
Shouting seemed to do something. Of to the left, I felt a presence shift. When I looked, there was no one, just more desert.
Wait, no! There was something. I could feel it, a dark spot against the blinding sun. It resonated cold. If I could just reach it, I would be alright.
I started towards it, but it seemed to move away as fast as I moved towards it. I picked up the pace, but I didn't seem to be getting any closer. Dropping to my knees in frustration, I pounded a fist into the sand and cried out once more.
Again, I felt the cold moving, but this time it was more than a shift. Suddenly, the cold enveloped me, surrounding me in its frozen embrace. Darkness seemed to consume me, blotting out the sun as it did. The cold felt familiar, but not. It felt as if I had been embraced by this thing before, but it wasn't cold back then. It was warm. Always there when I was cold to heat me up.
I opened my eyes. "James?" I whispered.
He was sitting on the bed. The covers had been thrown across the room, and his arms were around me. It had been a dream.
"I'm right here," he told me reassuringly, running his fingers through my hair.
I snuggled into his chest, as I had done hundreds of times, but this time, I made no progress. His chest had no give.
It wasn't as comfortable as I had hoped, so I lifted my head, just enough so I could look up at his face. Again, I was met with something unexpected. Instead of the warm feeling I used to get as I looked into his eyes, I was met with a piercing in my gut as I peered into his now crimson eyes.
The heat of his embrace. The softness of his touch. The warmth in his eyes. It was all gone.
I buried my face in his arms and started to cry. Not gone, stolen. He was still the same man I fell in love with, but the feelings I got from him weren't the same. I still loved him as much as I did before, but I missed my James.
He held me in his hard, cold arms as I cried myself back to sleep.
