In my dreams, you love me back (again). KaySun

Chapter One

Suna wonders if it is too late.

She reminisces how she had explained it to Kaya multiple times. Sometimes she thinks he understands—after all, he's not the type to pretend to be obtuse on purpose. When they're in bed, and his arms are wrapped around hers, she likes to stroke the thick dark hair on his head. And she tells him that he is the only one in her life.

He hears the words, always. Smiles at them, in fact. Tells her he loves her, plants a kiss on her forehead. And she's comfortable and happy and it's as if there's nothing wrong in this world.

She realizes she had taken Kaya for granted. She thinks back to that night when Seyran had revealed everything to the world; when he had taken her side, and comforted her despite everything. Then, Suna was crying, but Kaya—he let her cry into his lap, his shoulders, and he wrapped his hands around her, stroking her back and kissing her hair.

She wants to be able to say that she's right. That her anger was in the right place when she yelled at Pelin. But she stopped. That she was just confused when Abidin approached her. But she left. She wishes she didn't yell at Kaya when she came back. She wishes she wasn't jealous. She wishes she didn't have a moment of weakness. She wishes she was a better person.

Suna once thought that, because she had been trampled upon for most of her twenty-something years on this earth, that she had no pride—no nothing. Yet now her pride had been her undoing, her refusal to see love when it glowed warmly right in front of her eyes. She was too arrogant to acknowledge what she had. Why, oh why, did she make those mistakes? She had been wronged all her life; but that didn't mean she was always right. She knew the truth now, that her victimhood did not exempt her from wrongdoing.

She wishes that she wasn't alone in this godforsaken world. Maybe she was too damaged by the lack of love she's experienced her whole life; maybe she was just...an ingrate, someone who needed to stop making excuses for herself and her mistakes. The biggest one of all was that she failed to see the man she was supposed to love, even though he was right in front of her. And in her pride, she refused to admit that in the midst of her self-pity, she had never been alone...because he never would have left her.

She realizes that she realizes this too late.

—

She's seen Kaya mad before. Angry, confused. Betrayed.

She knows now that he hates feeling abandoned, that he loathes being lied to.

When she snuck out that fateful day all those nights ago to rescue Seyran, Suna recalls not only how furious he was, but also the hurt in his eyes. Yet Kaya never laid a finger on her; he slapped himself, he banged his fists on their wardrobe, even pushed her away from his line of fire and self-destruction.

She was only partially scared. Deep down, she knew even then that he would never hurt her. (Perhaps that was why it was so easy to take him for granted). Anyway, she reached out from behind him and trapped him in her embrace. She recalls his tears, the way his body softened, the way he collapsed in her arms. As she stroked his back, he kept his face buried in her chest, and later on, his chin was resting on her shoulders. Suna knew then that she could never leave him. Not like this.

She tried to offer him comfort. Tried so hard to be right. She wore the dress he picked for her. Linked her arm with his. I'm on your side, Kaya. I always will be.

Suns wants to blame the events of the night for the confusion and anger she felt later on. Now that she feels much calmer, she regrets how she almost ruined it all...she was guilty and terrified, and, alright, selfish. And she took it all out on Kaya, the man who had wiped her tears and called her a water fairy, who had stood by her side when she was behaving like a brat albeit convinced she was all alone.