2 o'clock Dreams
based on the dream I had during one of my afternoon naps. also posted on my wordpress account~
****
My cellphone clock glowed 2:23pm in the overcast noon light.
That overwhelming sense being complete was branded in my mind.
He was a half-fox, as weird as it sounds - with messy brown hair that almost touched his shoulders and equally brown eyes that are cold, distant and narrowed as he seemed to glare at everyone in the room. A frown seemed to be perfectly etched at the grueling lines of his mouth. He was beautiful - with a hard face of a dark angel and a body that could drive a woman mad; he was two years my senior; and he was my master.
I remembered cowering a little as he sat beside me in my bed - a small uncomfortable lower bunk in the three person dormitory I was currently living in. I felt embarrassed by the situation; I already felt insignificant sitting next to him - having him around with me around my equally insignificant dormitory room added to the feeling.
There was someone in the middle of the room speaking. The content of her words were very important, but I remember not being able to hear much - I was feeling oddly sleepy then; and the last memory I recalled before I dozed off was my half-fox angel looking at me - not with an angry glare, but with a burning intensity that would’ve left me weak-kneed should I have been sober.
Then I was sleeping.
I woke up with that overwhelming sense of finally being complete. It was as if a large piece of myself that I didn’t know I was missing was found. Then I sensed him. I could feel every rough plane of my angel’s body pressed against mine; I could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart; I could feel the caress of him warm breath at the back of my neck.
And then I knew, that it was him, with me that brought about the sensation of me finally being made whole.
I felt him moving away for a second - at that one moment I felt my heart being ripped apart - when he turned me around to face him. Once again, every part of my body was pressed against his, his arms wrapped tightly against my body as if afraid that I would leave him the moment he loosened his grip. I looked up, and his eyes - though still looking cold and distant conveyed the same thing.
As if I would even dare leave him.
But I liked the fact that he was uncomfortable with the knowledge that I might.
He pressed his cheek against mine, taking a deep breath as he spoke in that deep baritone voice of his. “It’s good to see that you’re finally awake, love.”
***
He was with me throughout the day. He was never a breath away from me; and his left arm was wrapped around my waist in a comfortable, possessive manner.
I liked the fact that he was being possessive about me, too.
***
We were walking along the more deserted parts of the beach, then; when I suddenly turned around to ask him something. My thoughts halted, my mouth unable to formulate the question upon the knowledge that the barest of inches separated my lips from his. His own mouth curved into a smirk before pulling me for a deep kiss.
That overwhelming sense of finally being complete got impossibly stronger. His breath washed over me; I could taste him in my mouth as his arms wound themselves tight and possessive against my body, my own hands tangling themselves in his hair…
Then I woke up. And my cellphone clock told me that I was already 5:17 in the afternoon.