Our Last Dance

Chapter 13

My heart raced as I continued to fixate on the wooden floor beneath my feet. The room fell into complete silence, and neither of us uttered a word.

What had I hoped for? That he'd comprehend my wild theory? I couldn't blame him if he thought I was out of my mind; after all, I might have felt the same way if I were in his position.

"This is stupid," I admitted, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. As those words spilled from my mouth, they sounded utterly ridiculous, even to my own ears.

"Layla," Elijah said, his voice gentle but still enough to startle me. Was he going to laugh at me?

"God, Layla," he said again, placing both hands on my shoulders as I finally lifted my head to meet his gaze, letting out a sigh.

"You've been having visions? Is that what happened when we both visited Serene Haven, and you fell down?" he asked, his eyes softening. Did that mean he believed me? Did he not think I had gone cuckoo or something?

I furrowed my eyebrows. There's no way Elijah believes this, he was supposed to laugh at me. But deep down, I had this inkling that he might just understand, and perhaps that's why I had wanted to share my secret with him in the first place. The realization hit me like a truck.

I gulped. "Yes," I paused, "I mean, that's the only time I've fallen down like a tumbleweed. But I've been having these dreams and visions lately, and at first, I dismissed them as just ordinary dreams. However, since these visions started, I can't shake the feeling that they might be connected to something. It sounds silly, I know, but I can't help but think there's something more to it," I said, looking at him while he regarded me with gentle eyes.

I felt a bit relieved that I'd finally shared it with someone. I'd been wanting to since my last dream.

He gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze and shifted a bit closer. He was tall, towering over my five-foot-six frame, making me feel short. A thought struck me: the guy in my dreams was almost as tall as Elijah. It felt like a piece of the puzzle falling into place with that realization.

Okay, the guy in my dream, he had a scar on his face, and I remember his build, and he was around six feet tall. I bit my lip, mentally noting down every detail I could recall.

"It's not silly, Layla," he said, looking down at me with a small reassuring smile, cutting off my thoughts.

He looked down at the floor briefly, then mustered a smile, although this time it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I believe you, Layla," he said earnestly. "First, I don't see you as someone who would jump to conclusions without giving it thought. And second, if you've been having these visions and dreams, there must be a reason. Our minds don't conjure up such things without some underlying meaning unless..." He paused for a moment, then grinned. "Unless you've secretly become a character in a sci-fi novel, and we're in for a wild plot twist," he added with a chuckle.

There he was, that was Elijah. His humor at the end eased my tension, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. His belief in me sparked a small internal celebration.

I bit my lip, debating whether to share the new theory that had formed in my mind. "I think those visions only happen when I'm with you," I admitted, pausing to observe his reaction. He gulped, his expression showing a hint of nervousness. Why was he being nervous?

"How?" he asked, Before I could respond, he continued, "Is it because I might trigger something?" He took a small step back, his eyes focused on me.

"Yes," I admitted. "Maybe it's just a coincidence, but it seems that when you do something similar to what the guy in my dreams did, I get blasted with these visions," I said, letting out a sigh of frustration.