dreamer ➵ larry stylinson

one

one.

For the past three months, reoccurring dreams have visited me every night. The dreams played out the same: I would be laying in bed like I was sleeping, then a curly headed boy would walk into my bedroom, laid beside me, and cradled my small body into his. None of us said anything, only the sound of our faint breathing was audible. The warmth of our proximity was overwhelming, covering us up like a blanket in the harsh winter storm outside. His musky scent surrounding us both in a seductive scent. Perfect, it was absolutely perfect. Though, it is a little silly; dreaming of a boy who you've never met.

I've never actually seen his face, in fact, I barely know he has long curly hair. Though, that's because his hair usually tickles my neck often. I wasn't complaining. It was adorable and I loved every second of it.

My life has been boring for the past year: Wake up, go to work, come back to the flat, and sleep. With the occasional appearance of my best friend, Niall, everything just seems to be moving in slow motion until the peak of my death. The reoccurring dreams have left a little excitement in the morning. Each morning, I wake up with a small smile on my face, but once I see the empty part of my bed, the smile fades.

I tell myself it's just a dream as I get ready for work, shaking off the feeling of his strong hold. It's strange, none of us have mention a word to each other in the dream, yet I feel like I know everything about it. I imagine that his furrowed brows and his closed eyes are right against my shoulder, as he breathes in a slow steady pace. For once, I feel secure.

Niall thinks it's completely normal and I'll eventually get over it, but for the past three months, every night, the dream pops up. I've visited a therapist about the problem before. Her theory was that my mind made this strange boy up in order to give my life excitement or the need to feel secure. Subconsciously, my mind has been getting comfort from a boy that I had unknowingly made up.

My parents think I'm bloody crazy since I've told them. You'd think that they would be understanding, but no, they think I'm insane now. Just because I'm dreaming of someone I haven't met doesn't mean there's something wrong with me. Well maybe my body is demanding human contact, but my sanity is completely normal. It's not like they won't talk to me, they never bring it up. To which, I will never do again.

"Louis, hello?" Niall waved a hand in front of my face. A grin plastered on his face. His blonde hair was put up in quiff today, it was uncommon when he did something with his appearance.

The corners of my mouth began to lift. "Sorry, Niall, I was just thinking."

"About that boy, right? You're always thinking about him."

My cheeks began to heat. "I can't help it, Niall. It's all I can think about now."

"No kidding. His smell, this, his touch, that. I'm barfing over here, Louis." Niall joked.

I rolled my eyes and took a drink of my hot tea. Currently, I stood behind the register at our local bookstore. Niall worked here as well, but today, his job was to sweep the floors and dust the shelves. My job for the day was to sit at this register all day and wait for people to buy something. Mostly teenagers come in, or young adults. Reading has become popular in the teenagers, but with the amount of technology today, our store is going out of business.

"You're just jealous, Niall!" I chuckled.

"I'm not jealous. I can actually get someone that's not in my dreams. But you know, a girl, not a guy."

I shook my head and laughed. "Whatever, Niall."

Niall is straight as a board, but he supports me one hundred percent. He's a great friend to have around, but he's obsessed with football. Whenever there's a game on, he literally comes to my flat and watches the long game. Since he's my best friend, I can't really tell him no. It's hilarious when his team is losing anyways, he yells and throws a fit on my sofa.

The broom collided with the edge of the counter, causing me to jump. I looked up at Niall and glared. He had a growing smirk on his face. Asshole.

"Louis, this job honestly sucks, switch me please?" Niall complained.

"Not happening, lad. That's my job tomorrow."

Niall groaned and went to the back to get the dusting supplies. I chuckled and looked through the windows at the falling snow. Today is going to be a peaceful day.

-

Once I had gotten back to my flat, I switched on the light, ripped my jacket off, and plopped right on the sofa and sighed. Today was so boring, yet tiring. Honestly, I think I was going to die on this sofa right now. I picked up the television remote and clicked it on. Some murder show was playing; a woman who had five children was murdered. Her body was found in tall weeds by a motel and the guests were complaining of the smell.

I rolled my eyes at the investigation and leaned my head on the arm of the sofa. In the matter of minutes, I was drifting off to sleep.

My fingers clung to the bed sheets, trembling slightly. My knees were bent to my chest, like I was cradling myself. The door to my room creaked slightly and the footsteps got closer. Part of the bed dipped lower and the bed sheets shuffled around. Soon enough, strong arms pulled me closer to the warmth of the stranger's chest. It was weird or strange, it was comforting.

He snuggled into my shoulder, his brown curls tickling my arm. His breathing began to slow down into a soft steady pace. He was asleep. My eyes creaked open and studied my room: The white walls almost looked black in the night, the moonlight shined through the room. And yet, a boy - I don't know - had his arms around me, cuddling into me.

Feeling brave, I turned around to face him. His chocolate brown curls sweatily hung to his forehead, his brows furrowed, and on his torso laid tattoos. Two birds, one that said 17BLACK, the rest I couldn't decipher. On his lower abdomen laid a butterfly and below was two leaves. Even with these tattoos, he was still beautiful.

The boy started to shift around, his arms moving around my waist. Then his eyes met mine; green like an emerald. A smile started to spread across his face, dimples popping out. He brought his hand from my waist to my cheek and moved the loose hairs covering my eyes.

"Hi." His raspy voice echoed through my room.

I gasped for air and started coughing; I was still on the sofa and the television was playing the stupid murder show. Groaning, I sat up and ran a hand through my hair. The clock on wall showed midnight. I've been asleep for hours now.

He talked, the boy talked. His voice was deep and husky, but the color of his eyes reminded my of a meadow. It was fascinating, His jawline was perfect, I wanted to touch it. Everything about him made my breathing shallow. Just thinking of his beautiful face cuddled to me was enough to make my heart stop beating.

What bothered me the most, was the information I didn't have. Is he real? What is his name? Why am I dreaming of him? Is he dreaming of me as well? Where is he? All these questions swarming around, yet I don't know if he's an actual person.

Who are you? 

-

hi so um larry. yes. 

i will not be deleting this story, promise. why? because it's already completed in my drafts. ten points for me! :D

also, i do not know when i will be updating. since school has started, i have joined crap that will stress the crap out of me. newspaper, theatre, and band. though on weekends, I will try. promise.

thank you for reading!