Dragonkin 4 You're my Mate? No thanks.

Part 21 Flirting butterflies

Settling in my suite of rooms back at the castle is a luxury. Ahh...my soft bed. Rolling around on my bed, I inhale deeply of the familiar smell of my favorite scent. Lilies. In the hospital, I've always woken up to the subtle smell of lilies.

The fragrant scent brings to my mind a chiseled face with intelligent silver eyes and sexy lips. Doctor Karalianus. How I wish I can catch another glimpse of him. Why did he leave before I can talk to him? I want to find out more about him. Closing my eyes, I imagine his face.

He is never far from my thoughts. I dream of him constantly. My favorite recurring dream was watching him play as a child. His child form running free, barefoot in the lush jungles, laughing gaily with children who share similar features. Probably his siblings. I want to run alongside him, feeling the wind in my face, my hair flying free. I yearn to share his laughter and experiences. The joy which lights his eyes when his small fingers pick up a new book, makes me curious to read the same book to find out what delights him.

There are times when I watch him cry silently inwards – when he was worried about a pale woman lying motionlessly on a hospital bed. He holds her hand tenderly and begs her to wake soon. His sister? Or past lover? My heart twinges at his sadness and I want to be next to him. To console him. To soothe the furrows in his forehead and assure him that it will be all right. It hurts to watch him as his face contorts in pain. But it was a dream, I can neither be there physically nor reach him.

My vivid dreams make it seems like I am watching his transition from child to adult. His carefree childhood transforms into a solemn serious young man who is drawn to books. In one of the dreams, I watch over him as he operates. I can feel his exhilaration when he conducted a successful surgery on a patient. The sense of loss when he lost a patient to illness.

In college, women are drawn to him. He's never short of female company but chooses to ensconce himself in his room, devouring books. I'm jealous of his books at times, when I view him in my dreams.

Other times, I dream of his grown-up self wandering amidst the books in our Grand Library, selecting books off the shelves and reading them enthusiastically. I feel like a voyeur, watching his every action avidly, committing them to my memory. Each move mesmerizes me. He's elegant, noble and responsible. I admit, I'm falling in love just observing him grow up in my dreams.

On special occasions, I also dream of seeing his face close to mine, kissing me ardently with my naked body plastered against his, in the emerald pool. The heat engulfs the both of us and leaves us hungry for each other. More kisses. More touches. That steamy scene never fails to wake me, leaving me hot and bothered; with no way to scratch that itch. It seems like a memory, but I'm not sure.

Since the accident, my memories regarding him has been vague. There are shards of fuzzy thoughts which I can't differentiate from dreams, visions or memories. I find myself wondering: If I had been intimate with him, given his fine form, I wouldn't have forgotten about him so completely. Accident or not, he would have left a deep indelible impression.

I remember everything, except you. Sitting up, I lean against the headboard. So, we weren't lovers. What exactly are we to each other? I can't make sense of any of it without confronting and getting to know the man himself.

Gathering my courage, I stand fidgeting in front of Karalianus' room. Lifting my hand, my fist hesitates above his door. Nothing but to push on now.

Pushing aside my reservations, I knock. Seconds tick by slowly and I wonder if I had remembered the wrong room. The maid who directed me here wasn't very clear in her instructions. I had vaguely remembered that his room is next to mine. It's not as far away as this. Maybe the castle management relocated his room during my stay in the hospital?