Miss Me? - A Continuation of "Tell Me, Love" (Darkiplier X Reader)

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Dawn breaks and you are instantly awake after a night of deep sleep. Deep, in spite of the fact that your dreams were troubling to say the least. You had dreamed of floating in the dead sea, or somewhere like it because it had been very easy to float, and in the peaceful silence as your ears dipped below the water you realized all at once that you couldn't swim and the moment you did, the water enveloped you and you began to sink, fast, all the way to the bottom. And that's all you could remember. That and an overwhelming sense of peace, which hadn't seemed strange to you in the midst of dreaming, but definitely began to now.. Peacefulness isn't often synonymous with drowning. You try to shake the thought from your mind, slightly disturbed after thinking on it for a moment and remind yourself of last night's promise. You remembered! You smile deeply and turn, hopeful that what you feel behind you isn't just a mess of blankets, but as you had already feared, he's gone.. You might have gotten your hopes up a bit too high it seems. Your smile fades and you try not to dwell too hard on his absence. It doesn't help to dwell. He hadn't promised to stay, after all. He had promised that you would remember.. and that much was true. You blush as you try and fail to stifle a smile while last night replays in your mind- the gentle caress of his fingertips on your skin, the slow, intentional movements of his body against yours, his warm breath against the hollow of your throat as he tried in vain to steady his breathing. You squirm, the thought of him stirring you like you hadn't known it could.. Your bare skin growing hot under the covers.

You decide, at once, to get up and get moving, after getting just shy of a coma-level amount of sleep in the previous days. To say you felt well-rested might have been the understatement of the year. Your muscles could have practically atrophied. You giggle at the thought, amused by your own sense of humor, and rise from your blanket-nest, the crisp air pricking at your nudity as you make your way to the bathroom, suddenly aware just how badly you've had to pee. You pick up the pace a bit and, finishing your business, hop into the shower, finally warm again in the embrace of the hot water. You hum a contented sigh and let your eyes close as the water saturates your wild hair and a sense of deep calm washes over you as steam begins to cloud the small room. Too soon though, it is time to get out as the hot water begins to run tepid. You sigh once more and step out into the muggy air, a towel fastened over your body, now. You finish your routine, rinse the toothpaste from your lips and raise back up to glance in the mirror, hoping against hope that a familiar face might be there to meet yours. It isn't. You sigh, once more, a defeated sound, and leave the bathroom. Perhaps you were being silly.
He never said he'd be here, you remind yourself and it's true. You are being silly, you know it. You can't have the "What are we?" discussion with a non-human entity haunting your house- and do you realize how silly you sound!
Maybe you're crazy after all, your conscience pipes up. You choose to ignore her, too sure of what you'd felt to be convinced of anything else. He was too real to be denied... when he was here. Ugh.

You move from the haze if the bathroom and your subsequent thoughts to the kitchen to start your first pot of coffee brewing for the day. Your body may be well-rested, but you are never one to refuse a good cup of coffee in the morning, another piece of your morning routine falling into place, another task to distract you. You move to the sink to fill the pot with water and at once startle and drop the entire pot, water and all against the hardwood. It shatters against the floor as hot breath bites at the nape of your neck. Your skin tingles and your shoulders tense tight.. and then relax, a familiar scent filling your nose, making you dizzy.

Him.

"You were afraid", he says. You sink deeper against him. His lips brush your bare skin as he speaks.

"I was worried", you reply, unable to lie to him, to maintain your witty composure.

"You thought I wouldn't come back" he says. It's not a question. He's right. Though you can't seem to form the words to tell him so. He places a hand on your waist, bunching the fabric of the towel still pinned at your chest, the other brushes your still damp hair from your ear, as he moves in closer.

"I am nothing.. if not true to my word" he whispers, pausing to take your lobe between his teeth. You tremble and your eyes close involuntarily as he moves slowly down your jaw, then your neck, nipping gently down to your shoulder. You let your head fall back against him and he lingers there. Your towel begins to fall and you move a hand to try to catch it, out of unintentional habit.
He turns you to face him and you are taken aback by the deep blackness of his eyes- suddenly feeling much smaller than you had just a moment ago. He looks deep into your own eyes, and wordlessly, pulls your wrist away from your chest, where you had been clutching your towel.

"You don't have to hide from me" he says and it tumbles to the floor with a "whoosh". You are very aware of your nudity, which you realize is silly given your relationship with this man, but notice nevertheless that his eyes don't move from your own.

"May I show you something?" He asks, and you nod, unaware of just what he means, but willing nonetheless. You feel you might agree to anything he asked, a thought that both terrifies and enthralls you.

He trails his fingertips down your arm and takes your hand in his.

"Come" he says and in a moment, everything goes black.