Hades

|Dream|

•CHAPTER TWO•

Munching on a muffin, I nod my head to show Alyssa that I'm paying attention to her story, although my mind seemed to be one-thousand miles away from the conversation.

"Sam?" She places her hand over mine, and pausing my movements.

"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow at her, trying not to look guilty for zoning out.

"Are you alright? You feel off today." She frowns, concern dancing in her eyes.

I did feel weird today. I knew I wasn't myself, and I also knew why.

"I just got into an argument with dad this morning. It's not a big deal." White lie. Although that did happen, that wasn't the reason why felt like this.

"Oh," pity colors her eyes, even though she tries to hide it. "Wanna talk about it?"

I shrug, not wanting to let the anger rush back to me. "Nah, I'm over it. I just want to move on." My gaze drops to the chocolate chip muffin in my hand.

She nods, pulling her hand away as she uses it to pick up her cup full of French vanilla flavored cappuccino. "Well, your shift is over in about five. Would you like to come over to mine? I'm sure your father won't mind since it's Friday." She takes a sip, and I watch entranced as the swirls from the heat seem to come up and wrap themselves around a piece of hair that escaped from behind her ear.

"Salami?" I blink, looking at her.

"Yeah?"

She tilts her head to the side, blowing out a breath. "You zoned out on me again. Are you sure you're okay?"

I smile, getting up and grabbing our finished plates and trash. "I'm sure. Now, I'll be back. Gotta clean up these tables and then I'll be ready." I turn, leaving the table before she could say anything else.

With a sigh, I empty the contents into the trash before dropping the plates into the sink. I brace myself against it, closing my eyes while taking a deep breath.

They were back again. The constant dream of an unknown male. It was recurring. Like a nightmare you always had because you were subconsciously thinking of it. Thinking of what you feared most. Except, this wasn't a nightmare. It didn't feel wrong. The only thing scary about these dreams are that I believed that's what they weren't. Dreams. They felt real, vividly real. I could feel his touch, hear his voice directly in my ear. His lips brushing my skin brought goosebumps. Goosebumps that followed me into my bed once I woke up, squirming and sweaty.

It all started when I turned eleven. The youngest I could remember. My mother had become depressed living with my father. Even being near him. And my dad would try his best to get her help, but he couldn't get through to her. Something had her. I felt it every time I was near her. But it didn't feel horrible or malicious. It was beautifully sinful. Something I could taste and touch. My mother knew it too. She had always told me I was special. But as I grew up and those dreams became more than imaginary, more than friendly, I knew she meant I was special in a different way. It wasn't what almost every mother told their child just because they were their children, it was something more.

"Salamiiiii!" A screech broke me out of my thoughts and I jump, running out of the kitchen and behind the bar.

My panicking ceases when I see Alyssa standing with an innocent look in her eyes. My eyes narrow.