Oblivious

32 // Right and okay

Oneirataxia
(n.) the inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality

-Elijah-

"Elijah?"

Someone's shaking me. My arms tighten around the body on top of mine.

"Elijah? Wake up."

"Fuck off."

Someone moves on top of me, pressing their nose into the crock of my neck, snoring slightly. A hand tugs at my hair. Blinking my eyes open I spot Adrian hovering over me.

He smiles when he sees I'm awake but he still looks a little worried and that has me trying to sit up.

I shift, Elora groans, I lay back down again.

I blink more, trying to clear my sleepy vision. Nothing feels real.

She's laying atop of me, sleeping on my chest. My arms wrapped securely around her waist, her head resting above my heart. Which is beating way too fast. This doesn't at all feel real. My bones feel shaky as though they may fall out of my skin if I move.

Turning my head slightly I take sight of the tv behind Adrian's frame, the last Jurassic park film is still playing softly.

"Elijah."

"What?" My head snaps to Adrian who's frowning down at me. But I can't really comprehend that anything could possible be wrong right now and I do nothing but grin up at him.

Elora's sleeping. With me. On my chest. Is this cuddling? It feels like cuddling. My arms tighten around her, her breath tickles my neck.

I don't think I've ever felt more at peace.

"I have to go."

I frown at him, blink a little, trace a pattern on Elora's back. "What time is it?"

"2." Adrian stands up straight, runs a hand through his hair.

"You're leaving right now? At 2 in the morning?"

"It's a friend emergency."

Nodding my head slightly I tilt it down a little to face Elora.

Adrian rolls his eyes and leaves. I listen for the sound of the door locking as I admire her.

She looks so peaceful. Her lips parted slightly, tilted at the corners, no crease between her brows. Soft and relaxed.

And beautiful.

She always looks beautiful. There's never been a time she hasn't looked beautiful. But I'm convinced every time I look at her she changes and grows even prettier.

It doesn't seem possible. She doesn't seem real. Half the time I'm convinced I've made her up in my mind because there's no way she exists.

She's incomprehensible. Her beauty is so outlandish and figurative and immortal like. She's divine. Truly and holy irresistible.

She's everything there possibly is and more.

She's Elora. My Elora.