Love of the Ages

Nine

Having seen Aerin again–this Time in an actual physical form–the Night before seemed like just another fantastic Dream to Bobby. There was no way that coulda really happened, as many Times as he'd Dreamt of her coming to him over the past couple months. It'd to be yet another figment of his Imagination come to tease him of what coulda been, had the Dream from his coma been real instead of just that–a wonderful, if confusing Dream.

So waking to an overly-warm bed again startled him enough to make him gasp, and rightfully so, considering how that Dream'd started out. He was almost terrified to open his eyes, part of him thinking that he'd somehow Time Traveled back to her and he was about to wake up in her bedroom again. There was no way his heart–not to mention his Sanity–could handle being teased like that a second Time.

The bassist still found the Courage to open his eyes, and he was relieved to see the same bedroom he always woke up in. Across the room, Bret lay sprawled out on his back in his twin bed, covers kicked mostly off and his pillow pulled over his head. Soft snores came from underneath that pillow as much as his thick mane of blonde hair–which woulda Circled his head like a Golden halo–did. His friend was obviously still deep asleep and completely unaware, and they always slept with their door locked to keep CC from pouncing on them. Realizing that begged to question–who the hell was in his bed with him, and how had they gotten there without waking him up?

Now he was almost terrified to take a peek back over his shoulder, part of him worried that whoever it was meant him harm. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look anywhore, but all he could see was long, Dark hair he knew wasn't his. It was too straight, whereas his was Naturally wavy, even though it was practically the same shade of brown. Even though part of him hoped that it really was the young Witch he'd befriended in his Dream, Bobby was still startled into scrambling outta bed, leading to him all but landing on his face.

"What the–who's there?" Bret snorted, bolting upright at hearing him let out a yelp.

"It's just me, idiot," he grumbled, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"That wild a Dream, huh?" his friend chuckled sleepily, his eyes clearly still unfocused.

"No," the bassist snapped, rubbing his forehead. "Dude, what the hell gives? Didn't I tell ya not to lemme bring home any random chicks after a Night of drinking?"

"Uh, Bobby–ya weren't drinking last Night," he told him, sounding confused. "None of us were."

"Then howddaya explain that?" Bobby pointed at his bed, where the lump of a figure could be seen curled up under the covers.

"What the–" the frontman said, kicking off what lil of his covers were still pulled over him.

"I dunno, man, but whoever it is, they freaked me the fuck out," he told him. "I thought I'd woken up in 2016 again–this Time, for real."

Bret snorted as he crossed the room and grabbed the top of the covers, which were pulled practically over the person's head. The only part that could be seen was the top, the rest covered by a sheet and blanket or blocked by the hand he finally noticed in front of the person's face. He felt his heart rate speed up a bit, 'cuz he'd only met one other person who slept like that–but part of him still thought he was Dreaming, that this was too good to be true.

Making sure not to wake the person, the blonde pulled the covers down to their chin so their face'd be revealed, if it weren't for that hand. He gently pulled said appendage outta the way next, looking confused as he heard his friend gasp from the floor. Only one of them recognized the young woman, and the one who did was shocked utterly speechless as he drank in her appearance.