Sadly, I don't own Underworld nor any of its beautiful characters.
Disclaimer of anything and everything, especially of that one wonderful line preceding one of the most wonderful scenes from the second novelization. It's included in this chapter. I will forever wonder why it never made it to the big screen.
Chapter 2 - Reveille
He was dreaming of her again.
This time, she was closer to him. So much closer…
They were making love.
Her normally brown orbs were now strikingly the coldest shade of blue he's ever seen. But as the said eyes looked into his own, he felt such contrasting warmth. She closes them with a sigh as her mouth bites down on her lower lip with one elongated fang, keeping a moan from escaping.
Dreaming Michael found himself content watching her like this.
Brushing off her short, dark hair and cupping her jaw with the hand not holding her waist, he pulls her to him for a deep kiss. They were molding into one—his warm, seeking body pressed into her surprisingly cold one.
She comes up for air a moment later and openly moans his name to his mouth and neck as he rains down kisses on her smooth skin—not wanting to ever stop hearing her moans of pleasure… He kisses skin he's only allowed to see from afar in his previous dreams… skin he's now suddenly devouring. They have set a rhythm. Slow, fast. Slow, fast. Fast. Steady… He was sweating all over that the tight grip she has on his upper arms was slipping. She lets out an uncharacteristic giggle as she grabs onto his shoulders and back instead, almost hugging him to her.
( Though why he thought it was unlikely of her to giggle was beyond the known recesses of his unconscious mind. )
( This was a dream after all… )
With that thought he felt his heart ache with sudden longing.
Please don't wake up.
She tugged at his damp hair then, seeking his mouth again, silently asking him to do more in the bruising kiss she was giving him. Michael was more than willing to oblige, suddenly pounding harder into her, rewarding him with a frustrated and particularly loud whimper from his beautiful lover. Then he stops… A strangely exciting thought occurs to him.
A woman like her would love being on top.
( Again, he had somehow known this was right. Accepting it like he knows just what kind of a woman she is. Loving being on top. )
For heaven's sake, Michael, focus on the task at hand.
He flips them over easily.
A surprised gasp naturally escapes her mouth, making him grin a little sheepishly. He was rocking into her again, thrusting upward more slowly but deeply now as he held her by the hips. She presses the palms of her hands and forearms on his chest to balance herself. The ends of her short hair tickle his face as she leans down to capture his lips.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks this wasn't right… He wonders why he's allowed such a sweet escape from reality… I don't even know your name.
"You don't need much of anything, do you?"
His own words from earlier rang in his mind. He takes a pause.
How can there be something he remembers from earlier when he was still dreaming now?
"Michael," she says softly, lips still barely an inch from his own. They slowed their movements down to a stop as she leans back. With that whisper of his name she takes him back to the present. The present dream. One finger touches his chin, lightly tracing his infamous cleft. He feels an inexplicable sadness then—not knowing her name. He wanted so much to call her back…. I'm here. I'm not leaving you… Hopeless, he instead answers her touch with one of his own. A hand tenderly reaches out to cup her face, thumb caressing her cheek. Her skin felt warmer now. He feels a blush creep into him as his mind made the obvious conclusion as to why.
He doesn't need to be a doctor to know what happens to the body doing…this thing that they were doing.
They looked into each other's eyes for a long time. Hers were slowly returning to their soft brown. She gives him a smile, then turns her head to his palm for a moment and kisses it with a tenderness that could only be matched with her human eyes. She still hasn't taken them off of his.
He decides there and then that he's utterly, maddeningly in love with her.
"You," she lets out suddenly, cutting through his thoughts for the second time. She bites her lower lip, hesitant, and looking so much like she wanted to take back what she had just said. A slip of the tongue.
Dazed, he could only reply, "What?"
She averts her eyes and looks down, almost shy. She then clears her throat as though making up her mind and steadies herself with her hands crawling back on his chest. A slow puff of breath and: "I don't need much of anything except you."
Michael wakes up.
He catches the last tune of the Reveille before it was fading away like a silent echo.
It's another day on the field.