**Elie's POV**
He is looking at me.
The boy who has haunted my dreams for years stands right before me, his piercing gaze capturing my attention like a moth drawn to a flame.
But why does a flutter of fear grip my chest? It’s almost as if my heart recognizes the gravity of the moment, a peculiar mix of thrill and anxiety coursing through me.
Am I filled with joy that he is real and not just a figment of my imagination, a silhouette against the backdrop of my dreams?
Wait, is this a dream? It can’t be reality.
Maybe I should pinch myself.
I tentatively press my fingers into the soft flesh of my arm, feeling the warmth against my skin...
"Ouch, that hurts," I murmur, the words barely escaping my lips, an echo of disbelief mingling with the surreal atmosphere around us.
What is happening? My feet begin to move toward him as if guided by some unseen force pulling me closer. Come on, feet; don’t betray me now. Uhhh, sigh.
It’s as if destiny has woven our paths together, leading me toward the boy I’ve seen in my dreams since I was seven years old.
"Hello, my name is Elie," I manage to say, my voice trembling slightly, the sound a fragile whisper against the weight of the moment. "This will sound weird to you, but I’ve been dreaming about you for as long as I can remember." The words tumble out in a hurried rush, each syllable tinged with a mix of nervousness and eagerness.
Gasp. Oh my god, his hand is nearing my cheek, fingertips brushing against my skin. Why does that simple gesture send shivers down my spine, igniting electricity in the air? It feels so right, so intimate—a touch I’ve yearned for in the solitude of my dreams. My heart races as I fight the urge to lean into his gentle touch, craving warmth and connection.
But then, gasp! He withdraws his hand, and I feel a vacuum where warmth once lingered. I want it back... Sigh. It felt too good to let go, and the sudden chill left me longing for more.
"I’ve been searching for you for so long," he says, his voice smooth and rich, like honey poured over silk, enveloping me in a cocoon of familiarity. In that moment, it feels as if the world around us has faded away, leaving just the two of us, suspended in time and space, teetering on the edge of something magnificent.
He was dressed in perfectly fitted blue jeans that accentuated the form of his legs, paired with a crisp white long-sleeve dress shirt. Two buttons are undone, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his bare chest beneath the fabric. His striking green eyes twinkle with hidden depths, reflecting a thousand secrets, while a crescent moon tattoo graces his right cheek, drawing my gaze and curiosity like a magnet.
Wait, what is happening to my face? Why am I blushing uncontrollably, heat radiating through my cheeks? Did he notice my deepening color? Oh my gosh, did I just unconsciously lick my lips? What is wrong with me?
"My name is Christopher," he introduces himself, his tone breaking through my daze with an almost magnetic pull. I am momentarily startled by how familiar it feels, like a long-lost melody. “To answer your question,” he continues, a charming smile blossoming on his lips, “I do feel as if we have crossed paths before, and I've dreamt about you in my past; it’s wonderful to finally meet you.”
He extends his hand toward me, an invitation to shake hands—a simple gesture that feels charged with significance.
Should I shake his hand? This is all so surreal; this moment brims with the promise of what’s to come, a threshold waiting to be crossed...
I take a deep breath, the air thick with anticipation, and move my hand forward to meet his. The moment our hands connect, I gasp, a jolt of sensation coursing through me like an electric current, igniting a fire that threatens to engulf everything else.
Why am I leaning forward? Is my body completely betraying my mind?
Am I really about to kiss him? Lips, please don’t betray me. I just met him!
Oh my God, I just kissed him!
A whirlwind of emotions floods through me—confusion, exhilaration, and an unmistakable sense of destiny intertwining with this instant. I can’t help but wonder what incredible journey lies ahead, waiting to unfold before us.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy In Her Dream
Werewolf"Mom, Dad, I am scared, cried Elie. "Beta Elisa, we need to complete the ritual to cloak her wolf; we don't have enough time," said Penelope. "I know, babe, just close your eyes and all the pain will go away, and just remember that mommy and daddy l...
