To Love A Tribrid

An Unexpected Awakening

As sunlight filtered gently through the translucent curtains, Anastacia slowly stirred in her soft, inviting bed. Rubbing her groggy eyes, she couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. "Was it all just a dream...again? she asked herself, the memory of the tribrid's intoxicating presence lingering in her mind.

Overwhelmed by curiosity, Anastacia threw off the comforter and hurriedly made her way downstairs. As she descended the wooden stairs, a peculiar fragrance wafted through the air, hinting at something extraordinary. Enticing aromas led her to the kitchen, where an artful array of breakfast delicacies awaited her, meticulously presented on the marble countertop.

"Someone's feeling better." She says plopping a fresh blueberry into her mouth.
Anastacia still in shock only nods in agreement as she sits down at the table.
"Teaching you how to cook paid off huh?" Her mom continues a she pours herself a cup of coffee. Anastacia looks around half expecting him to jump out. There's no way I had a dream two dreams about him back to back she thinks to herself.
She could not understand how it had come to be there, but her mom was convinced that she had made it herself.

As Anastacia took a bite of her breakfast, the flavors exploded in her mouth.
The pancakes were fluffy and perfectly golden, the bacon crispy and savory, and the blueberries burst with sweetness.
Daemon his name was Daemon.
She didn't know how she knew his name but she now did.
She couldn't tell her mom she didn't make the breakfast for then she'd have to tell her about the dreams without sounding crazy.
Anastacia's mind was racing with questions as she savored each delicious bite.
How did Daemon, the mysterious Tribid from her dreams, know how to cook such an amazing breakfast?
And how did her mom not suspect anything unusual?
As she pondered these thoughts, Anastacia's mom sat down next to her, a warm smile on her face.
"You know, sweetie, I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be the one cooking breakfast for us," her mom said, sipping her coffee.
"You've really come a long way."
Anastacia's heart sank.
She couldn't take credit for this culinary masterpiece, but she couldn't ignore the truth either.
She had dreamed about Daemon not once, but twice, and now he seemed to have brought her dreams to life.
She couldn't tell her mom.
She knew Daemon was dark and she could tell he was twisted.
She pictured again how She saw her blood dripping from his lips.
The way he told her he wanted to own her in every way. Anastacia shuddered, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind. She couldn't let her mom see her fear, her confusion. She had to keep up the charade, at least for now.

Taking another bite of the delicious breakfast, Anastacia forced a smile. "I guess all those cooking shows finally paid off," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Her mom chuckled, her eyes twinkling with pride. "Well, whatever it is, I'm just glad you're finding your way in the kitchen. It's about time!" she said, playfully nudging Anastacia's shoulder.

Anastacia's mind continued to race, desperately trying to make sense of everything. She had always been a vivid dreamer, but these dreams felt different. They felt real. And now, here she was, faced with the evidence of those dreams.

As they finished their breakfast, Anastacia's mom got up to clear the table. Anastacia watched her, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she had to find a way to confront Daemon, to understand the truth behind these dreams. But how?

An idea began to form in Anastacia's mind. She remembered her grandma's old journal, tucked away in the attic. It was said that her grandmother when she started suffering from dementia would write about things she swore she saw most of it mythical. Maybe there was something in there that could shed some light on her current situation.

Anastacia excused herself from the table, telling her mom she needed to use the bathroom. In reality, she headed straight for the attic, determined to find the answers she so desperately sought.