reverie / hs

18

The melatonin lingered in my system, a gentle fog that promised a deeper sleep. As I lay in bed, the familiar weight of my anxieties pressed down on me, a heavy blanket I couldn't seem to shake. "Just relax," I whispered to myself, trying to silence the restless thoughts swirling in my mind. "Just close your eyes."

"Elena," a voice called out, a deep, husky voice that sent shivers down my spine. I turned, my heart pounding, and there he was, standing before me. Harry, his smile a beacon of warmth that melted the anxieties that had been plaguing me.

"Harry?" I gasped, disbelief and joy intertwined in my voice.

"Hey, angel," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers through me. His eyes, the same emerald green as the leaves on the oak tree outside my window, were filled with a mischievous glint, a spark of happiness that mirrored my own.

I rushed toward him, my arms reaching out to embrace him, his warmth a soothing balm against the worries that had plagued me for so long. "You're here," I whispered, unable to contain the joy that swelled within me. "How? How did you get here?"

Harry shrugged playfully, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "What? I was gone that long?" he teased, his voice filled with affection.

I stepped back slightly, taking in his presence, the way his hair was tousled, the way he held himself, with a confidence that radiated from him. The room around us seemed to shimmer with a surreal glow, the walls themselves echoing the joy and contentment that radiated from us.

"No," I said softly, my voice filled with a tenderness that surprised even me. "I just missed you." The thought echoed in my mind, a whispered truth I had been trying to ignore, to push down, because in my waking life, Harry was only a figment of my imagination, a dream I couldn't hold onto.

"I missed you too, baby," Harry murmured, his gaze locking with mine in a moment of perfect understanding. The warmth in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a smile that lit up his face, made me forget

The plush velvet of the couch yielded beneath me, sinking into the cushions like a sigh. Harry was beside me, his presence a tangible warmth radiating from his very core, a physical sensation that sent a tremor of disbelief through me. The air thrummed with a soft, almost audible hum, as if the very room was vibrating with an unseen energy. It was so real, so impossibly perfect, that for a moment I truly believed I wasn't dreaming.

"You know," Harry said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air, "I could stay like this forever." He was looking at me, his emerald eyes shimmering with a depth that made my heart ache.

"Me too," I whispered, a tremor of fear tightening in my chest. It was a lie, of course. We both knew it. In reality, we were miles apart, a chasm of circumstance and timing separating us. This...this was a stolen moment, a whisper of a dream where we were finally together.

His fingers, calloused and warm, skimmed over my back, tracing a comforting path just beneath my shoulder blade. "What's bothering you, angel?" he asked, concern etching fine lines into his handsome face. Lines that, in this dream, I knew by heart. Every curve, every wrinkle, every freckle, was etched on my memory,

"It's...it's just..." I started, the words catching in my throat. The pang of sadness was back, a constant reminder of the inevitable wake-up call. "When I wake up, you're not here." I gestured to the room, "This, all of this, it vanishes."

He looked at me, his brow furrowed in a way that made my heart clench with tenderness. "What do you mean?" His voice was a soft caress, tinged with an almost childlike confusion. "This is real, Elena. You're real."

A sob choked in my throat. "I know you're real here, Harry. But this..." I couldn't finish the sentence. The thought of the dream fading, of losing his touch, his scent, his voice, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, it all threatened to drown me in a sea of despair.

"Elena," his voice was firm, strong, anchoring me. He gently lifted my chin, his thumb brushing against my lower lip, the touch a jolt of electricity that ran through my body. "What we have, right now, it's real. I'm here with you, completely."

His words were a balm to my soul, washing over me with a soothing, reassuring warmth. I felt a wave of gratitude, a desperate hope that this was somehow more than just a dream.

"I love you," he said, his voice hushed, almost reverent. "In every moment, wherever you are."

I looked into his eyes, the emerald depths reflecting a love so profound, so true, that it felt like a physical presence pressing against my chest. 

"Harry," I choked out, my voice trembling. The words were a prayer, a desperate plea to hold onto this moment, to somehow bridge the gap between dreams and reality.

He smiled then, a slow, tender smile that tugged at my heartstrings. His thumb traced the curve of my cheekbone, a gesture so intimate that it sent shivers down my spine. "Elena," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, the scent of his cologne a familiar comfort that wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

The air between us crackled with unspoken words, a tangle of desire and longing that had been building for years. Without a moment's hesitation, I reached out, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His scent, a combination of woodsmoke and fresh linen, filled my senses, intoxicating me. And then, our lips met.

It was a kiss of desperation, a desperate yearning for something real, something more than the ephemeral beauty of a dream. His lips were soft, warm, and utterly familiar. A sigh escaped me, a rush of pure joy washing over me as I savored the taste of him, the feel of his arms around me, holding me close as if I were the most precious thing in the world.

He responded with a fervor that mirrored my own, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, the heat of his body pressing against mine. The world melted away, the couch, the room, the dream itself, fading into a background hum as we were lost in the embrace of the moment.

When we finally broke apart, our breaths mingling in the still air, I felt a wave of both elation and despair. The dream, so perfect, so real, was still a dream. But in that moment, in the warmth of his embrace, in the taste of his kiss, I knew that this love, this connection, was real, even if it only existed in the shadows of sleep.