Rain poured hard on the streets of New York, people running everywhere to find shelter from the harsh winds and the rain that hit the city. I was on my way home from practice, though this time not with my mom; she had a business meeting to attend to back at her office, so, unfortunately, I had to find my way home myself. I felt as if I was being watched as I trudged down an unfamiliar street. Turning around, I saw no one. That’s weird. I hurried my steps, feeling a bit more creeped out. There! I hear footsteps behind me again; but when I turned around, still no one. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to convince myself I’ve been imagining those things (and failing). I tried to compose myself. I opened my eyes and was blinded by this radiant light, my splotchy vision tried to focus and get a better view of this thing in front of me, slowly making out a shape. It looked like a person, though it didn’t fit, what person would glow like that? As my sight got clearer and clearer, the person in front of me got more and more defined. And right in front of me was the most gorgeous guy I have ever seen.
With the slightly curly, strawberry blonde hair that makes me want run my hands through them, those hard chiseled features, a faint outline of muscle underneath his clothes, the fair skin that made me want to touch them and the eyes, the most beautiful eyes ever; blue as the summer skies yet deep as the ocean, outlined with long-dark lashes that cast shadows on his cheeks. I felt like I could drown staring at those eyes yet as I looked upon their depths, they seemed to twinkle and wink at me, as if he’s happy to see me. They felt warm and welcoming as he stared right back. His full and defined lips, smiling a cute lopsided grin that doesn’t detract but even enhance his beauty, softened all those hard, chiseled features. I never thought I could call a boy beautiful. But this one is. So, achingly beautiful.
He lifted up a flawless, radiant hand, to stroke my cheek; it felt hard and strong against my delicate skin, not as if he put it there to crush it but hard and strong in the sense of being protective and at that, I felt secure for some unknown reason. I also realized how close we were. He looked like an angel. Still staring at me, he intertwined his free hand with one of mine and leaned closer and whispered in a voice so angelic, “I’ve been waiting for you, love,” a bolt of lightning flashed, which lit up his beautiful face once more, making him more perfect than ever; the booming thunder followed and I woke up from the dream.
It was still pouring outside when I woke up in the middle of the night; I checked my bedside clock, it was just past one. In the morning. Feeling annoyed, whether because of the disturbance in my beauty sleep or because of the interruption of my dream, I do not know, I tried to get back to sleep. Try as I may, I couldn’t feel a hint of lethargy in my system. Since I couldn’t get back to sleep, I might as well change into my jammies (a pink care bears one, my favorite). As I snuggled back to bed, I kept on remembering the funny dream I just had. Weird funny, not ha-ha funny. I thought about the boy with the seraphic face thinking, somehow, somewhere, I knew him. I recognized him. But from where, I knew not. And before I know it, I drifted off to sleep again, though no more perfect, angelic, guy came bustling in my dreams, which was a total bummer.
