Sweet Obsession (In Progress)

Chapter One: Part One

A/N:

Picture is of the texture in the walls.

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Strange Dream

"Wake up, Rosaline," a deep, melodic voice drifted through my hazy mind. I pushed myself deeper into the numb, dark void that was sleep - not heading the voice's words at all.

"Rosaline," the voice taunted, tugging on the edge of my subconscious. "You're mine."

The last part seemed more like a threat, or demand, than anything else. But, oddly enough, I wasn't afraid. If anything I was drawn to the strange voice - a voice that could only be described as the epitome of masculinity.

So I did what any woman would do. I let my emotions drive me, tuning out my rational state of mind - which is flashing warning lights - and allowed myself to be brought to the brink of consciousness, in hopes of getting closer to the source of the voice.

"Soon, Rosaline," the voice lilted in my right ear, sending shivers down my spine as the man's cool breath kissed the delicate, heated skin at the back of my neck.

And then, all to soon, I felt the presence leaving me; drawing away into the shadows as I struggled to open my eyes and grasp for it, before it disappeared. My eyes fluttered open slowly as the sensation of a chilled breeze passed over me, caressing my bare skin and making it tingle with the after effects of its embrace.

In my fuzzy and newly woken state, I began to question if I was loosing my grasp on reality. For surely hearing voices and feeling phantom winds was not a sane thing to do. But then, I was tired, so perhaps I had just imagined it.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position, heavy lidded eyes and all, and began to stretch, only to stop, wincing as a sharp, swift pain erupted in my head. I instinctively brought my hands up to my temples, trying hard to massage away the pain as I focused on steadying my, now ragged, breathing.

When the throbbing managed to dull to a small ache, I was left to ponder what could've brought about such an abrupt and extreme pain. And then there was my supposed dream, with that mysterious man. What the hell was that about? 

My questions only began to pile up as I took in my surroundings with what little, dim light the room offered. The first thing that drew my attention was the plush, silk covered, canopy bed that I was lying on. Thin, sheer curtains hung down from the top beams to the floor, veiling me from the outside with their delicate, white material. The place was far to extravagant and beautiful to be my small appartment, so I assumed that I was just dreaming. 

I let my eyes roam over the rest of the room with interest, before they fell upon a fire place at the foot of the bed. It was some distance away, with chairs and couches obscuring a straight path to it, but it was lit - quietly crackling as it cast a warm, muted glow over the room and everything in it. I sat there, observing the fire, until it died down to mere embers. There's something so peaceful about fires. They just draw you in. 

Since it was just a dream, I saw no point in trying to do anything else. Even if I did, I'd likely forget it by morning, and no one ever talked to me in my dreams, or even looked at me, so there wouldn't really be a point.

Maybe you're still thinking that I should have been freaking out, having woken up in a strange place, or that I should have been going into a full blown panic attack, trying to find a way out. But I was eerily calm as I await my fate, because I didn't believe this to be real. I knew that it was all in my head - the mans voice and the room - and that I would soon wake up and shake this off like the creepy dream that it was. So, I allowed myself to be completely absorbed in watching the fires dance as it died down.

After a while, there was a sudden click that echoed throughout the room and ricocheted off the pale, embroidered cream walls. I snapped my head up in the direction of the door, just as it opened. A harsh stream of light flooded the dark room, stunning me into momentary blindness. I threw my arms up trying to ward off the luminescence, cringing and drawing back into the pillows.