Dancing in My Dreams

Author's Note: Hiya :) This was originally written and posted August 25th 2009. I had not written in first person for a long while prior, but it was a lot of fun. I had attempted multiple times to write a Kiba story before this one, but they were never completed . . . despite that, at the time, he was one of my favorite characters XD Any-who, please, enjoy and comment! God bless!

Dancing in My Dreams

At night, I dance with him in my dreams. My heart beats against the seams. Yours would, too, when faced with his smile that gleams. Every touch makes my elated senses scream. But I only silently take in the scene.

He holds me close to him; my slender, petite frame presses up against his tall, tone body. His tan hand wraps around mine and his other stays at the small of my back. I wear a strapless black dress corseted with white ribbons and lace, and a flowered corsage adorns my pale left wrist, which rests against his back.

I rest my cheek against his chest as he gently guides me. My light blue eyes close in bliss. I feel his chin rest atop my charcoal black hair, which frames my face and chin. He wears a black tuxedo, tailored to fit him just right.

Gingerly, he takes his chin from atop my head, and releases my hand to cup the side of my face. His thumb traces under the curve of my bottom lip, and it flinches. My eyes open partially, looking into his thin black irises. Scruffy brunette locks lie close to his scalp, and red fang tattoos mark his cheeks. I smile and close my eyes, waiting for our lips to meet.

Then, I wake up, and I scream. Not squeal, scream. I grab a pillow and release an obnoxious, frustrated, bloodcurdling scream, and kick my legs beneath my blankets.

Now, notice that this is all in present tense. Why? This is what one would call a recurring dream. That means, I have had it many nights . . . AND IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY! In my dream, I am happy, reveling in the romance of the moment. Which would be fine-dandy-except that I'VE HATED INUZUKA KIBA SINCE THE DAY I MET HIM!

HATE.

NOT LOVE.

HATE.

So see my dilemma?

My name is Hasu Yuki, and my subconscious does not seem to agree with my conscious, pertaining my feelings for Kiba.

.[XxX].

Here's the low-down of our past. I met him in elementary school. We were both five or six, maybe seven at the oldest. Since kindergarten, we had shared the same class, but did not become acquainted right away. It was Picture Day; I remember because my hair was longer and curled, then. Many kids were dressed in their Sunday-best.

My dress was bright, frilly, floral, and I had to wear white tights and black-buckled shoes. Already, I had been a little peeved because my mom and dad had forbidden me from playing, so as not to ruin my clothes.

It was cruel to have recess on Picture Day; it was teasing the kids who got all dressed up!

Since we were not allowed to play sports or anything rough like that, my girl friends and I played hand games such as Slide, Lemonade, or My Mother, Your Mother. Most of them were simply for two people, so we were paired up. I was with a pink-haired girl named Haruno Sakura, trying to see how long we could play Slide successfully, and how quickly our hands could move.

We got to a point where our hands were almost a blur as they smacked and clapped against one another. Giggles were escaping our lips, and I was so consumed in the game, I barely noticed the soft feeling of a hand disturbing the curls at the back of my neck.

Sakura and I laughed hysterically when I slipped up and our game was at an end. That laughter quickly turned to a cry of anguish as my hair was brutally pulled. My hand immediately had gone to that spot, and I twisted to face my attacker with watering eyes. It was Kiba.