The Queen's Conquer

Chapter 7 : Force of Nature

Euphoria • [you-for-e-ah]
A feeling or state of intense excitement and happiness.

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~ Anastasia ~

I've lived my life through an endless stream of dreams and nightmares, wishing I was something or someone else. I never wanted to admit how much I loathed my existence, especially growing up around parents who treated me as their invisible child. But he saw me. He understood what it meant to be used and forgotten.

Now, I dream of him—I dream of the only person who's ever made me feel whole before. Yet, every time I see his face in my sleep—reach out to touch his skin, he vanishes against my hands. Those images have always been figments of my imagination, anyway. A hope I hold onto.

I still remember the faint sensations we had shared the last night I saw him. I always envision how his touch feels before I go to sleep as if I need to feel it forever. I never wanted to lose what kept me sane through those two months of isolation—it was Samuel who kept me alive through it all. It was always him.

But now, a similar sensation runs through my skin as someone's touch is felt through the material of the blanket I've wrapped myself in. Sparks of electricity set my arm on fire and force me to stir back into a state of consciousness. The feeling startles me at first, but I tell myself it's just another stupid dream.

Wrapping the blanket tighter around my small frame, I groan into its softness and warmth in spite of my curiosity, my exhaustion easily controlling my body. It's only your imagination playing tricks on you. Go back to sleep, I tell myself.

That's until...

"Anastasia." His voice.

My eyes flutter open, convinced I've truly lost it at this point. It takes a moment until my gaze refocuses against the harsh rays of light pouring through the large window, daytime now spreading its glory into the spacious room. And then they settle on his handsome face.

I don't believe it's real at first. I'm unconvinced that he's sitting beside me in a chair that's crammed up against the frame of the hospital bed, leaving no space between the two objects. But he's just as I remember: dark messy hair, ink covering those muscled arms, and that look that screams of such warmth and deep radiation against his stark blue irises. Except now, a gentle smile crosses his lips, and his aura becomes the only thing I feel anymore.

I shoot up from the covers, now wide awake once I realize his hand was what I felt against my arm just a moment ago, sending those strange electric bolts through my body. And my eyes drink in his realness—his authenticity. Some instinctual behavior tells me he's dangerous—tells me to run—but my thoughts turn verbal without so much as a warning.

"Samuel..." I find myself choking out as if I've just breathed my last breath. And now, I fight the urge to touch him back—and, unsurprisingly, struggle. A force of nature is what causes me to lunge for him, my arms aiming to wrap around his neck, wanting nothing more than to be consumed by his warmth. But he stands to catch me first, closing the gap between us even quicker than I anticipated.

I gasp the second our bodies collide, feeling everything. His heartbeat, his blood pumping through his veins, the electricity that shatters him and I whole—and sob despite how much of an effort it's been to contain everything since that horrible day we were forced to split.

Samuel breathes into my neck, inhaling my scent as his arms tighten around my frail body, his own tears staining my skin. I've never seen him cry before—never knew such a thing was possible. But his emotions are raw and vulnerable right now, no different than mine. I grip his neck, my fingers lacing through those deep brown locks as I go slack in his arms, feeling as though this is my breaking point. I decide that his touch will be the very thing that kills me one day.