The Boy In Her Dream

Chapter Nine: No blood relation

**Elie POV**

I am in shock. Each word resonates in my mind like a haunting echo, a relentless mantra that refuses to fade away.

“I am in shock,” I repeat to myself, trying to make sense of the chaotic whirlwind of emotions swirling around me.

Tonight, my brother, who has always been the gentle, protective figure in my life, turned into someone I barely recognized. His words were sharp, and his actions were rough, leaving a jagged wound in my heart. I can't wrap my head around the sudden shift in our relationship.

All I want is to run towards Christopher, the one person who has always made me feel safe. I crave his warmth, his presence—my heart aches for the embrace that makes everything feel right again. I wish to hug him tightly, press my lips against his neck, taste his tongue, and savor the unique flavors that linger when our mouths meet.

Then, a sharp pang of anxiety strikes as my mom gently insists that I sit down. She’s about to unveil truths that feel heavy with significance about my origin and the mystery that surrounds my parents’ disappearance. Confusion swirls within me. What does she mean? Mom and Dad are my parents, aren’t they?

A chilling breath catches in my throat as a haunting thought slips through my mind: *Gasp... Am I adopted?*

I think I whisper it in disbelief, but it escapes my lips louder than I intended. Silence hangs thick in the room as neither my mom nor dad replies. I turn, searching my brother’s eyes, but he, too, offers no solace or clarification.

Overwhelmed, I leap out of my chair and rush to the front door, the cool evening air greets me like an old friend. Relief floods me when I spot Christopher standing patiently outside, his features illuminated by the streetlight.

Without a second thought, I run into his arms, the world around me fading into a blur. His embrace is a fortress, and as he envelops me in his warmth, he presses his face against my neck, a tender gesture that makes my heart flutter. His breath is warm against my skin as he licks me and whispers possessively, “Mine.”

Looking into his deep eyes, I find the courage to declare, “I am yours.” The words come tumbling out, surprising even myself. But there’s no regret—only a deep yearning to belong to him wholly.

I glance at Christopher, my heart pounding. My voice falters as I stutter, “Can I... Stay at Y-ou-r House?”

His surprise is evident, but without hesitation, he sweeps me up in his arms, carrying me bridal style as he makes his way to his car. The world feels surreal, cradled in his embrace.

Yet, my phone buzzes incessantly, pulling me back into the reality I’m trying to escape. Six missed calls from Mom, eight from Dad, and a slew of disturbing messages from my brother flood the screen, each one a grim reminder of the upheaval I’m leaving behind.

Through the car window, I watch as trees pass by, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, leaves falling like forgotten memories. A wave of sadness washes over me. Why aren’t my parents the people I thought they were?

Questions swirl in my mind like autumn leaves caught in a tempest. Where are my real parents? Has everything I've ever known been a fabrication? Do they hate me? Is my brother harboring resentment?

I feel as if I’m adrift, battling a tide without any lifeline. The weight of uncertainty pulls me deeper.

I try to stifle my sobs, but the tears slide down my cheeks, quiet and heavy, falling like the leaves outside. I ache for answers, for understanding, and most of all, for the feeling of being truly loved.