Shadow Realm/The Constant, night of the 147th day of the current world. Goat mama is home.
Wilson POV
The camp quieted down after everyone had their portions of dragon pie. Everyone except Maxwell, may I add. Who knows what he's doing tonight… I chose to not give his whereabouts much thought (this proved to be a colossal mistake on my part later on in the night) and continued with small talk about what I did in my time away. Yes, the bunnymen are fine and happy. Yes, the berries we planted last season are in good shape and ready to be harvested whenever we want. No, no more trees growing in that area, Willow, please get down there and plant more because you burnt them all and we might need them in the winter. Thank you. Yes, I encountered some batilisks but only a few. Yes, I'm perfectly fine…
I got carried away and missed my chance to speak with Wendy. Oh well, I can always ask her what was bothering her tomorrow morning.
One by one everyone says their goodnights. The one in charge of the lookout for monsters tonight is Wolfgang. The Strongman doesn't need anyone to accompany him in this task since he's equipped enough to wipe a pack of hounds! We can all have a sweet night's sleep thanks to the gold-hearted big man. Thank you, Wolfgang!
Finally, I feel my body starting to become lethargic and asking for some sleep. Each one of us has a tent for our personal use and storing items that won't be shared with the rest of the team. Not because there is mistrust among us but because some of us have no self-control when it comes to the use of some items. Willow would burn the whole camp if unattended (it has happened before). Wendy would get to anything sharp. Webber would keep things that make him remember his human life and family before being turned into the half-spider boy we love and cherish. No one would try to take those items back, though…
Lifting both flaps of my tent and looking at my "bed" makes me smile at the inanimate object like it was my lover. Ha, ha, ha. I really go crazy when I don't sleep, right? Or maybe it's my sanity level being low. Yes, that must be it.
Huh.
Shrouded in the tent's darkness, my heart starts to beat faster. I'm in danger, it tells me. I don't listen because this is my tent, in the middle of the camp, surrounded by my beloved yet peculiar family members and with all the weapons I have gathered in one of my chests. Why would I feel endangered here? I can't stop the feeling by the time I lay down on my fluffy bed but I don't let it stop me from sleeping. For the Gods of science's sake, I need some sleep and I'm going to get it even if I need to fight Morpheus himself.
So I close my eyes and let nature work.
.
..
…
I turn to my left side. Maybe that would do the trick?
.
..
…
What about the other side?
.
..
…
Nothing.
I lay there for what felt like an entire "hour". It surely wasn't that long since the day cycle hadn't started but it feels like it. I try not to shed tears of frustration on what seems to be another sleepless night but then, I hear it.
Thump.
What is-? Did I hear footsteps? Who is in my tent? There was only one… The shuffling of my straw and bunny fluff bed alerts me that, indeed, someone has entered my tent without warning. How curious, Webber would always make himself known before entering the tent. I also never saw the light coming from the open flaps. Maybe I nodded off to sleep just enough to miss my baby's voice? It had never happened before. Webber's voice is so deep and distinguishable that it always manages to wake me up.
Something tells me that my assessment is correct and I shouldn't alert the non-spider night visitor of my wakefulness. I wouldn't consider myself an expert but I'm pretty sure I can trick someone into thinking I'm asleep so I do just that. I force my body to relax and my breathing to slow down. Nothing happens after a few seconds but then I feel someone's hand on my shoulder. A big hand.
Maybe Wolfgang wanted some help with something and was too shy to say anything during dinner? No. Wolfgang is anything but the silent type. Also, he's very respectful towards everyone. He would totally have called my name from outside the tent before entering.
None of the women, WX-78, Webber, or Wes' hands are that big-
The unwanted hand forces my body to face the "ceiling". Something cushions my "fall" to the bed so I would not wake up.
It's Maxwell.
There is no doubt.
Who else has a mastery of magic here? What is he doing in my tent?!
Curiosity gets the best of me. I want to know what he's up to so I pretend that the movement only stirred me up slightly. Better make it believable.
I feel breathing hitting my lips before I decide what to do next…
"This is retribution for making me clean up your mess." The dapper bastard says.
His lips made contact with mine after he justified himself. He kisses me slowly, mindful of my breathing. His lips are soft and smooth no matter how long he spends in the scorching sun in the summer or outside on the most dreadful of nights in winter. His words are venomous but his lips have always been the sweetsweetcure.
Damn this man!
How can he–he do this to someone asleep! Aren't the shadows' rules protective of the ones traversing the dream world? Did he lie again? Well… I'm nottechnicallyasleep so…
He doesn't have the right to do this either way! I should just punch his face since I know where exactly it is. It's… above me, kissing and biting my lower lip… There is a small change in my breathing but I'm not in the right mind to care. I don't have a good enough excuse to keep my mouth closed so the moment Maxwell lets go of my lip, I leave my mouth slightly agape.
The sinful devil takes that as an invitation to continue.
He slips that snake tongue of his inside my mouth but it quickly stops once he finds his prize.
My tongue.
I fight the urge to hurt him and push him away from me. A part of me remembers what happens when you don't let him have what he wants from you. What happens if you defy him… There will never be a good outcome for you. He will take whatever he wants and then leave you to rot somewhere with only the never-ending land as your company. The more painful the experience for you, the better for him.
That wasWilliam, my mind fights back.
This is Maxwell. I might have a chance if I could only–
Freezing cold fingertips caress both of my cheeks while the unrelenting attack on my mouth continues. Does he think something like this wouldn't wake me up?! Yes, I'm a heavy sleeper but, please! He would definitely wake me up under normal circumstances!
Right?!
I don't want to begin to imagine what he would do to me if I were not to wake up in time to stop him.
Maxwell finally relents and takes away those sweet and plump lips off of me. I know he's smirking just by how his breath hits my face. The nerve! All the times I spoke in favor of this ruffian to the other survivors and this is how he repays me! I feel so disrespected. I know this is not the first (nor the last) time he has done a dishonorable thing to me… I just… I just thought we were past all that and he had turned a new leaf for the better.
I was wrong.
This isn't excusable and I shall remember! Next time he needs my help when dealing with the others, I will not move a finger for him.
Thankfully he's don-
No, he's not.
How much longer does he think he can pull this off without waking me!?
Maxwell kisses me again, making sure to kiss me deeply, and nothing like a simple peck. No tongue this time, thank goodness. He then makes it his job to kiss every part of my "sleeping" face. First my forehead, then both of my cheeks, then my chin, then both of my closed eyelids, and lastly my nose. Yes, not even my nose was spared. Just because he can, he kisses me in the mouth once again.
I hate to admit it out loud but Maxwell's kisses are very good. I hate it even more knowing that he has noticed my feelings in the past, too. The dapper man would proudly say to my face how muchIenjoyed our nights in his "castle" and I would never deny it for fear of being subject to his "punishments" for the "insolence" of rejecting him. He was not wrong in saying I enjoyedsomeof what he did to me, but I wish I could just spit in his face like he deserved.
The cherry on top comes in a wet tongue making its lazy way from my lower jaw up to my cheekbone.
Bastard.
I hear rustling from my bedding before the sound of his magic activating as a signal of his departure.
For the first time tonight, I'm completely alone.
Notes:
Poor Wilson did anything but sleep...
