Still Dream

Mikayla POV

The next day, Mikayla knocked on Pitch's bedroom door before anxiously shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. Her dreams about the armored, silver-eyed man were starting to drive her nuts, and she wanted to ask someone other than Pitch for advice on what they could possibly mean.

She hoped he wouldn't mind that she was going to run an errand, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to find out more about the mysterious figure from her dreams before it consumed her thoughts completely. She took a deep breath and waited for Pitch to answer, ready to confide in him about her strange dreams.

"Mikayla? Is there something that you need?"

At the sound of Pitch's groggy voice, Mikayla snapped out of her thoughts and realized she had been staring off into space. She quickly shook her head and focused on Pitch, only for her mind to blank at the sight of him shirtless. Lean muscles that Mikayla had no idea were under those robes were flexing in a rather delicious way as Pitch shifted subtly as he looked at her curiously.

His shoulders were far broader than she had thought, and his skin was rather stunningly pale; it was as if it glowed, and it was utterly flawless.

There were faint, defined muscles and faint scars along his stomach and chest that no one would have believed were there if they hadn't all seen them for themselves, and those—what were they called? Those beautiful muscles that more or less point to one's groin? Not that Mikayla knew, but she did know that she liked the look of them so much.

Pitch also had a faint six-pack. His arms, chest, and shoulders were built but wiry with youth and strength. And he had one of those V's that chiseled a defined line around his narrow hips and disappeared beneath his waistband, showing off the smooth planes of his stomach.

Mikayla felt her heart race as she admired his physique, feeling a sudden surge of desire and attraction that caught her off guard. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to run her hands over those sculpted muscles, tracing every curve and ridge with her fingertips. And his morning voice was deep, gravelly, and husky, sending shivers down her spine every time he spoke. It was a voice that commanded attention and respect, making her even more drawn to him.

"Mikayla? Are you alright? You look very flushed," Pitch said, and Mikayla inhaled sharply, getting a whiff of clean laundry, rain, and a hint of sandalwood. She quickly composed herself, realizing she had been lost in her thoughts about Pitch's alluring presence.

"I'm fine, just lost in my own world for a moment," she replied with a sheepish smile, hoping that he didn't notice how flustered she had gotten. "Anyway, I'm gonna go run an errand. You good to stay here by yourself for a little while?" Pitch nodded, his piercing gaze softening as he watched her.

"Of course, take your time. I'll be right here when you get back," he reassured her with a warm smile. Mikayla felt a flutter in her chest at his considerate words, grateful for his understanding nature. Mikayla quickly turned and headed out the door, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about her errand. As she walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that Pitch's presence had a way of making even the simplest moments feel special.

Once Mikayla felt far enough away from the Sanctuary, she stopped, and spared one more look over her shoulder, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She knew that no matter what awaited her outside those walls, she could always count on Pitch to be there for her when she returned.