APRIL 3rd, 1994, SEATTLE, WA
THE DREAM STARTED with Kurt walking into Lindy's bedroom, the same way that he always had. His two arms, slinking out of their usual flannel sleeves to reveal a rumpled band tee beneath. The determined way that he stepped towards her bed, his exhaustion getting the best of him as he dreamt of being between sheets with Lindy at his side.
The only noticeable difference that Lindy saw was how Kurt appeared physically. This dream version of him was visually stunning, even more so than the real life version of Kurt. There was a healthy glowing halo around him. His face was full of life, the thinness of his sallow cheeks long gone. And most radiant of all were those blue eyes, bright and startling.
Lindy didn't need to ask aloud what had changed. This version of Kurt, the one in her dreams, was restored to physical and mental wellness. Heroin had not entered his blood flow in months, if not years, and his agonizingly beautiful features flushed with lively spirit when he saw her, watching him intently as he moved.
In the dream, Lindy was already sitting on her bed, possibly having waited for Kurt's impending arrival. She sat up, awed by his presence.
"You're early," dream-Lindy observed. She couldn't see whatever expression was on her face, as she had taken on the body of her dream-self, but Lindy could tell she was wearing a smile. Even in her unconscious state, she knew that much.
"I came as soon as I could," Kurt said. He approached her and sat down on the bed, his hands finding their place on her body. When they touched her arms, a shudder of elation passed through Lindy's core.
"I'm so happy," Lindy whispered. She crawled closer to Kurt, even more joyously pleased when she felt his blonde hair between her fingers and his skin making contact with hers.
"Everything will be okay now," Kurt promised, folding Lindy against him. "I fixed it. I made it better."
She let out what sounded like a cry, but it was more of a whimper of impatience. She wanted him as quickly as possible, to lose herself in their mutual celebration of Kurt's redemption of his old self. Finally, it seemed that they would be happy. Kurt had made sure of that.
Dream-Kurt started kissing her, a longing mouth-to-mouth contact that used every sense of bodily language to let Lindy know that he wanted her too. She could feel, or rather her dream self was alerting her, that Kurt was removing her clothes. She was already disposing his shirt, her hands skimming down to the button on his jeans.
When he laid her back on to the bed, kissing her chest and neck hungrily, Lindy sighed with contentment. Not even in her dreams did she grow tired of her and Kurt's private, physical moments that sustained her like nothing else could.
They were so close, so close to engaging in what was sure to be hours worth of intimacy. Lindy could feel Kurt's body slipping against hers, touching her in sensitive places that only he would ever access. She bit her lip, waiting for that first thrust of satisfaction, when Kurt suddenly paused and looked up into Lindy's face.
His blue eyes were as blue as she'd ever seen them, burning into hers with hot, meaningful intensity. It almost scared her, the way he stared at her. It was like he was looking straight into her soul, trying to reach her from another dimension outside of the world where they belonged.
"You're going to be a great mother, Lindy," Kurt declared.
And then she woke up.
Lindy gasped, wrenching her body upright from her horizontal position against her stack of pillows. Even though her fan was switched on, she could feel sweat running down from her temples and pooling onto her chest. The dream had been amazing, but it had given her the same sensation as running a marathon. She was breathless, dizzy with the images that had just flashed through her unconscious mind.
