Callie knows she's sleeping but Clay's voice is strong and clear. The door is in front of her, so she just opens it. He's sleeping, Cat curled in the crook of his arm, his chest lifting regularly and slowly.
Callie sits on the edge of the bed, carefully. He's so beautiful, her Clay, all golden and warm. Her boots are heavy, they've been walking most of the day in search of gas, so she unlaces them and lets them fall on the floor, but they don't make any noise.
Wake up, Clay, murmuring softly, and now she's sitting on the bed, beside him, petting Cat, who looks up at her and then starts purring.
There's a silence, in this room, the only sounds coming from Clay's breathing, the purring kitten, and a breeze, even though the window is closed. A few dry leaves have fallen on the bed, orange and brown and dark gold.
Are you dreaming? Cat says you are. I'm not sure. If I were dreaming, I wouldn't dream of being hungry, would I? ...Everything is so different here. I miss you. I lost my voice.
She smiles back at him, just as slowly and softly, as his rough fingertip traces down her cheek.
He caresses her hair. I think I am. When I am awake you are not here any longer. And I've dreamed of missing you, I'd rather dream of thirst and hunger, so maybe you are dreaming too.
He leans over to kiss her cheek.
Can't you just go back to where you lost it and find it?
Settling comfortably against the pillow, Callie pondered for a few seconds.
They took it from me. Because they gave me something else, but I'm not sure I can do it. Like, using my balm on your scratches, only it's not my balm, and not on scratches.
She smiles at him. I like your place. It smells like you.
Callie frowns and takes Clay's hand in hers, checking the nasty scratch on it.
Told you a million times, she kisses the wound, tenderly. You have to be careful, with all your tools. They're so sharp.
Lifting her eyes, she sees a big, black dobermann sitting just outside the bedroom door. It's just a moment, then he's gone, but Callie is sure, he had deep blue eyes.
Did you see that? She moves closer to him. They are...bad people. Very bad. They play with other people, and put them into this big cage that looks like the world but it isn't. And they want to hurt everyone. And there are no flowers here, Caly, no flowers at all. They forgot about flowers completely. But.. she lowers her voice, whispering close to him. I have a surprise for them.
He doesn't understand what she is talking about. He just knows that he wants to protect her - and he can't.
Come back to me, Callie. Come back to me, my love. The world makes no sense when you're not here. He hides his face in her hair, breathing deeply. She's in a place with false worlds, and no flowers - and she wouldn't be if they had stayed. They should have stayed. He should have stayed.
He leans back to look at her. Promise me you'll come back.
Naked too and jumping up and he knows it's a dream but he doesn't want to think about it, cause that will make her go away.
And because it's a dream that other one can be there too, looking at her from the dark shade of the trees. With glittering eyes, lips drawn back from hard teeth in what could be a smile.
There's a crown of flowers in her hands, small daisis entwined with pink buds. A flock of birds flies over them, darkening the sky for a few moments, and Callie follows them with her eyes, distracted..but then they disappear in the light blue sky, and she places the flowers crown on Clay's head.
I'm not afraid. HE knows that. I love you both.
There's a rustle behind them, a few branches moving as the big dobermann settles down in the shadow, far from them. Callie smiles and turns to Clay. Sing and I'll dance for you.
He looks at her and whistles, soft notes falling like rain. He doesn't look at the other, the one sitting, now, next to him. He can't.
The songs are no longer those of birds, They're the songs of the trees and the wind and the rain. And if there's a low note from right beside him. A voice he doesn't have - he doesn't hear it.
Callie knows she's sleeping but Clay's voice is strong and clear. The door is in front of her, so she just opens it. He's sleeping, Cat curled in the crook of his arm, his chest lifting regularly and slowly.
Callie sits on the edge of the bed, carefully. He's so beautiful, her Clay, all golden and warm. Her boots are heavy, they've been walking most of the day in search of gas, so she unlaces them and lets them fall on the floor, but they don't make any noise.
Wake up, Clay, murmuring softly, and now she's sitting on the bed, beside him, petting Cat, who looks up at her and then starts purring.
There's a silence, in this room, the only sounds coming from Clay's breathing, the purring kitten, and a breeze, even though the window is closed. A few dry leaves have fallen on the bed, orange and brown and dark gold.
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She looks so tired. Worn.
He sits halfway up so he can run a finger down her cheek. She's so beautiful. She'll always be beautiful to him. No matter what she looks like.
His smile is soft and slow and dreamy.
Callie
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She smiles back at him, just as slowly and softly, as his rough fingertip traces down her cheek.
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He leans over to kiss her cheek.
Can't you just go back to where you lost it and find it?
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They took it from me. Because they gave me something else, but I'm not sure I can do it. Like, using my balm on your scratches, only it's not my balm, and not on scratches.
She smiles at him. I like your place. It smells like you.
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He smiles and curls up next to her. I still have a jar of your balm. A good thing too. My hand caught on a nail the other day.
He strokes her thigh a little. Who are "they"?
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Told you a million times, she kisses the wound, tenderly. You have to be careful, with all your tools. They're so sharp.
Lifting her eyes, she sees a big, black dobermann sitting just outside the bedroom door. It's just a moment, then he's gone, but Callie is sure, he had deep blue eyes.
Did you see that? She moves closer to him. They are...bad people. Very bad. They play with other people, and put them into this big cage that looks like the world but it isn't. And they want to hurt everyone. And there are no flowers here, Caly, no flowers at all. They forgot about flowers completely. But.. she lowers her voice, whispering close to him. I have a surprise for them.
She kisses him, gently. I worry about you.
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Come back to me, Callie. Come back to me, my love. The world makes no sense when you're not here. He hides his face in her hair, breathing deeply. She's in a place with false worlds, and no flowers - and she wouldn't be if they had stayed. They should have stayed. He should have stayed.
He leans back to look at her. Promise me you'll come back.
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Smiling brightly, Callie traces a cross on her heart. As in dreams, suddenly she's not lying down anymore, but straddling him. Cross my heart...
Holding his wrists, she pulls his hands up to cup her face. The world has never made any sense, Clay. Don't worry. Sing for me.
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Beautiful, melancholic notes, tumbling over each other, filling the room. Sunlight, flowers, the shadows cast by the branches of the trees.
They are dreaming after all.
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Dance with me? She's naked, now, tugging on his hands, grass under their feet.
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And because it's a dream that other one can be there too, looking at her from the dark shade of the trees. With glittering eyes, lips drawn back from hard teeth in what could be a smile.
Her skin is warm.
He kisses her.
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Do you want HIM to dance? Callie doesn't know who HE is, but it makes sense in the dream that there would be someone and that Clay would know.
She dances around him before kissing him again.
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How can you describe what the hunger inside of you looks like? The pain and the anger and the desire? Lust?
You can't.
It just looks like you. Normally, people can't tell the difference. Sometimes there isn't one.
The other one steps closer. Closer. Breath quickening. Not allowed to touch no. But can look. Can touch with eyes if not with hands.
Yes.
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I'm not afraid. HE knows that. I love you both.
There's a rustle behind them, a few branches moving as the big dobermann settles down in the shadow, far from them. Callie smiles and turns to Clay. Sing and I'll dance for you.
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The songs are no longer those of birds, They're the songs of the trees and the wind and the rain. And if there's a low note from right beside him. A voice he doesn't have - he doesn't hear it.
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