Defne & Ömer: What if we had met at an airport instead?

Chapter 1: Dreams

Hi all! This is my first attempt at a Defne Topal - Omer Iplicki story. I am currently obsessed with the show Kiralik Ask and this story came to me as a way to channel this obsession. 

While the initial chapters may come across as filled with angst, I promise they will become lighter as the story progresses.

Hoping all Defom lovers like it and hope this story makes all those who haven't seen Kiralik Ask yet, fall in love with this couple as well. 

Omer

He stretched his arm across the space beside him, felt it empty again and groaned. Another day, another dream. Though this time it had felt so real that he was so sure that she had indeed been beside him letting him love her, smell her and touch her, but apparently not. He sighed keeping his eyes firmly shut lest the remains of the dream disappear entirely.

He wondered why he was so tired and why there was the morning sunlight streaming right on to his face. The light in his room had never been so bright. That thought prompted him to slowly open an eye and then the other and take in his surroundings.

He was in Sinan's summerhouse and the drapes were wide open with sunlight streaming in. Also, he was naked.

It was then that the previous night came rushing back to him.

It hadn't been a dream. With relief and euphoria sweeping through him, the forever-reticent Omer Iplicki nearly laughed out loud. Defne and him, Defne jumping him, Defne and her unknowing come hither looks, Defne - his panther - eager, impulsive and aggressive in the best possible way.

He let himself revel in the memory of them pressed up against the wall, against the piano, against the bedroom door and finally of the feel of him on top of her. 

While this euphoria threatened to never subside, a panic began to settle as well - had she left? Where was she?

However, before the panic could take complete control of him, he noticed her dress from the previous night lying in the exact same spot on the floor where it had fallen off of her. Her bra was there too, as were her boots lying scattered across the room with his own.

The relief he felt on seeing these inanimate objects was bone deep, she hadn't left. 

She was somewhere in the house wearing no underwear and reveling in the glow from last night. The thought had him shooting up, clothing himself – only because he knew his panther would become a kitten again if he was to parade around the way he wanted – and going in search of the woman who held his mind, heart, soul and body, now and forever.

Omer opened a bleary eye and examined the digital wall clock across from him – 1.00 AM it read. He was still at work, dozing off at his desk, barely able to sit up straight after another exhausting day, or had it been an exhausting week? Or had it been a month or even a year or more? He didn't know. It had never been work and the long hours that he put into it which exhausted him endlessly, it was his life and the mess that it had become.

She had insisted he visit a $300 an hour therapist to find out what was wrong with him, but it had done him no good. How could a therapist help when he knew exactly what was wrong with him and what he needed for him to get better. What could a therapist do if he couldn't have the one thing that would help him get better. What would a therapist do if his soul was no longer within the shell of the person he had become.

Suffice to say, one failed session later, he had decided he wouldn't go back. If he really did need to speak to another human, there was always Sinan and if not, he would do precisely what he always did, suppress his emotions and delve into work that had kept him threaded to sanity so far and whenever that hadn't helped either, he slept. 

For it was in his sleep that he saw the dreams, the dreams of her, his panther, his red-haired goddess and of them together and so so happy.

Defne

She woke up ensconced in his arms, bare legs entangled and his face at her neck inhaling the scent of her hair even while asleep at nearly noon, a euphoric feeling bubbling in her chest. He was still sleeping, a very un-Omer Iplicki-like thing to do, probably the first time that he had slept in so late, but then again it had been a night of so many firsts, the first time there had been no exchange of words between them, the first time she had initiated a kiss, her first time, their first time. 

She knew she should have felt embarrassed at the way she had jumped him but he certainly hadn't seemed to have minded. 

She had never thought her first time would be unplanned, in someone else's house, with her initiating it, with her being unwed or that it would feel so so good. But those were her thoughts from before she had met Omer. Her dreams before meeting him had always revolved around her as a newly-wed bride and her husband (who bore a striking resemblance to a certain doctor Omer wanted to kill) in a room filled with candles. Her husband would take off her bridal gown leading her to a bed where they would share some sweet kisses and warm hugs. Little did she know that she would instead meet this handsome-brilliant-kind-passionate-caring-loving man who would show her the passion that she had only believed was to be found in stories written by those dreaming of what she had then thought were imaginary emotions and feelings.

The night before had spoilt her for life as despite the initial haste, Omer had made her come over and over again, first with his mouth, then his hands and finally with himself inside of her. He had not stopped until the wee hours of the morning, making love to her like a beast and then languidly and even lazily. He had been insatiable but then again, so had she. 

While she had never thought of sex as something that could intensify the feelings they had for each other, it certainly seemed to have done just that and while initially she had been hesitant and embarrassed looking at a man naked for the first time, she had then been possessed by a fierce thought, mine! Her mind had screamed.

Yes, he was hers and if she could do anything about it, he would always be hers.

However, as she pulled out from under him and rolled on to the floor for the second time in three days, she imagined a girl with blue hair and blue eyes saying the same thing, "mine".

Defne awoke with a start. There it was, another one of her memories appearing in her sleep addled brain camouflaged as a dream. These everyday dreams always left her with the emotions she had tried to bury too long ago and while on waking up she should have forgotten the feelings associated with each of these dreams, they haunted her through every step she took through her days, every day.

She often wondered if she could have instead met him at say....an airport for example. 

Somewhere away from the city which held so many people who were trying to pull them apart, at an airport in a country far away where he, a brooding and handsome stranger, would have sipped on some Cabernet Sauvignon waiting to board a delayed flight, where she would have tripped on to her face in front of him, where he would have rushed over to help her, the gentleman that he was, where she would have made him laugh and where he would have made her heart skip a beat and where they would have come together, two opposites of a pole to be together forever.