Lightning Bug; A2; Saturday Morning
Penelope woke up with a languid stretch and sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She'd slept in longer than she should have, or rather would have liked. It was just last night a cloak of loneliness settled around her and she curled up with her book light and read her beloved The Dreamer; staying up late into the night and early morning to finish it. Out of every book she's ever read (and written by a little nobody that never amounted to anything) it was her favorite. She looked for it now because she knew it was here on her bed when she fell asleep.
Frowning, she lifted her blankets, checked under her pillow, and was about to climb out and look under her bed when a deep, honey-warm voice so much like velvet, made the tiny light hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
"I'm right here, Penelope."
Startled, she whipped around, hand clutching at her nightgown over her heart. There was a man in her alcove. There was a man in her alcove seated on the floor at the end of her cot.
"What... who... h-how'd you get in here, who are you?" she managed on a near breathless whisper.
He smiled softly, his rich warm eyes seeming to take in her entire face. "I'm The Dreamer," he replied, unmoving.
"No... n-no you're a boy, man... in my room. You can't be here."
His head tilted in a curious manner, watching her with great care. "I've never seen you so flummoxed, Pen."
"You don't know me," she continued. "You should leave; this isn't proper. Why are you here?"
"I know everthing about you. I know that you are more shy than not. I know when you are alone and unaware you like to twirl a single strand of hair around your right finger. I know that you cry softly sometimes before you sleep, all alone when no one can hear you. I know that you deeply respect your mother; I know also that you despise her. I know that you would have said 'I do' to Max, if he'd been standing before you and not Edward. I know you love to dream. I know you love me because when I'm upon your lap and your gaze is fixed on me, you open up to a world you only wished was yours: the one that I give you. I am The Dreamer, Penelope, and I belong to you."
Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. It was hard for her to breathe. How could this be? Was he just a figment of her imagination? Was she still dreaming?
The Dreamer moved his head slowly from side to side, his lips curling upwards in a slow, easy smile. "I am not, and you are wide awake."
She inhaled sharply and dropped to the floor, fervently searching for her book.
He watched her patiently and came to his feet in a single, lithe movement. "Pen, come here."
Her book was no where to be found and she felt the tip of her nose tingle and her eyes misted over. Her beloved book was missing. Someone stole it...
"No, no one took it, darling. I am right here." He stepped towards her, his features inviting.
Fandom. This was Fandom messing with her. It was the only explanation. The only one that made sense.
The Dreamer smiled and extended his hand towards her.
On her knees, she looked up at him and knew that, yes, he knew everything. She could give into that for however long the Fandom fantasy lasted, couldn't she? Tentatively she reached out and felt his warm fingers wrap around her hand and he helped her to her feet before he brought her in, embracing her as he whispered: "I'm The Dreamer."
[[ OOC: Etablishy!! ]]