Fading Dreams
Disclaimer- I don't own anything incorporated in this story, except this idea, which somehow spiraled out of control. Hope you enjoy!
He thought he saw her.But he didn't.
Only in his dreams
He thought that he would make her feel better.
And he did.
He thought that kissing her would make her pain go away.
And it did.
They grew up...
And it's now the future.
He thought they would have kids.
They did.
He thought they would get married.
They didn't.
What is he left with now?
Nothing but the dreams.
Fading dreams.
Dreams of her porcelin skin, her perfectly manicured eyebrows, the shape of her glossed lips, her blue-grey eyes and sandy blonde hair.
He pours the shampoo on his palm and spreading it throughout his hair. Scrubbing it viciously with his nails until he thinks he'll bleed if he doesn't stop.
His tears mix in with the running water and he can't tell the difference anymore.
Finally getting out, he wraps the white terry cloth towel around his waist snugly and walks out. Digging through his dresser drawers, he puts the wifebeater over his moist body, playing with the hem.
His tears cascade down again, and this time, he knows it's not the water from the shower, but his own salty tears.
Putting his boxers on, he lets the towel puddle to the floor and puts on his grey sweatpants. Sagging over to his bed, he lays down on the pool house futon, still smelling her jasmine scent.
He feels a tiny body jump on the bed and a small, porcelin white hand wrap around his upper torso. Her light blonde curls wave in his face as she kisses his cheek. "Night Daddy!" She whispers loudly once she sees his eyes closed.
"Night pumpkin," he whispers back, putting his hand over her tiny one and patting it slightly. He turns the lamp off and he can see the picture and the silver frame glistening in the shadows of the pool house. The tall beauty with her arm around the handsome blue-eyed man, and the cutest baby in the woman's arms.
He sees the glistening gold band lying right beside the silver frame. He knows it has no place on his nightstand, especially out in the open, but he can't help it. Thinking one day they will be brought together.
Tousling his hair from his earlier shower, he remembered how she would always do it for him after their showers together; saying "I don't wanna sleep next to a wet head." When in fact he knew it was just to ruffle his hair and arouse him, leading to long hours of love.
"Good night..." he whispered faintly to his dead girlfriend. "Sweet dreams..."
And somewhere in the back of his head, he knew she was repeating his words.
"Sweet dreams to you too," she whispered.
END
I'm sure you know who it was.