How it Happened is Irrelevant (Mabbell)

3

"You know how badly I've wanted to taste you?" He's asking me. I am confused and blinking in response. Too naïve to understand. Before I can think about what he's saying, his lips are on mine. He's kissing me. Not in a delicate way. A lustful, hot passionate way. I'm kissing back too. His lips feel nothing like I'd imagined. I'd imagined them soft and delicate, much like his uncalloused hands, but they felt squishy. It was almost as though they were filled with beads. It feels like....

My pillow. I woke up and found myself kissing my pillow. I'd been having the same dream every night for weeks now. The only difference between those weeks and every other week I've been dreaming of it is that now the dream was exactly the same every time. I wiped the drool from my mouth with the back of my hand. I felt a mixture of emotions about it. A part of me felt embarrassed, as though someone might be able to see the dream. Another part of me wanted to live the rest of the dream out and see what more it led to. I rarely got to see what happened after he took his shirt off.

Is it unhealthy to think about a particular person in this way this much? Especially if they'll probably never feel the same way about you. Sometimes I wanted to pretend that I could still feel him, but my hands have callouses on them. 

Why couldn't I have fallen in love with Thrasher? 

I laid back down, for it was still too early to get up. I was tired from yesterday. I also really wanted to make a desperate attempt to continue that dream. It took a while, but I eventually willed myself to go back to sleep.

And the dream actually continued.

I woke up after it had finally ended, feeling an even greater mixture of emotions. Please, dear God, tell me that I didn't do anything stupid in my sleep. I haven't been known to sleep talk, and I rarely even have nocturnal emissions. But I shouldn't have fallen back asleep.

When I entered the front lounge, Craig looked at me for a bit before asking a question. "Have nice dreams?"

I covered my face with my hands and looked at the ground. "What happened?"

"So you're telling me with absolute surety that there wasn't another person in there with him?" Max asked inappropriately. 

Based on that comment alone however, I knew that I hadn't said any names. That's one plus. "There was no one else there," I told him. "I can tell you that with absolute surety."

"You can't seriously believe that. It even smelled like sex in here!"

Craig choked on whatever he was drinking. I don't know if he was surprised, or it he was laughing. "I wouldn't go that far."

"Can we just move on?" I asked.

"No," Max continued. "You're the news of the morning. You're all we've been talking about for the last two hours. It's about time we got it from the source. What did she look like?"

I swallowed hard. "She.....had tattoos. And dark hair. And...." I picked on one of my nails. "It was razor straight." I didn't want to get too specific.

Craig raised an eyebrow at me. I mouthed 'no' to him. It wasn't a girl. But I wasn't prepared to admit that.

"Second question," Max went on, disregarding the invasive nature of the questionnaire, "who was on top?"

"I think that's enough," Robert intervened. "It happens to all of us. We don't need to make this into a big thing. It happened, it's over with."

Never in my life have I wanted to thank him more. Unfortunately, I also felt a great weight of disappointment in myself. If the dream was harmless before, it's a full on murderer now. 

"I know who you dreamed about, " Kevin said in a sing-song voice. It was taunting though. 

"No you don't," I assured him. 

"Yes I do. " 

"I don't even know who I had a dream about. They weren't real, " I lied. 

He shrugged. "And I was so sure. " He sounded somewhat defeated, but I still wasn't fully convinced that he believed me.