polaroid angel - dreamnotfound

˖⋆࿐໋₊ 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

i step out into the big living room, barefoot and only clad in the white robe dream offered me earlier. a leather couch stands in the middle of the room in front of a huge flat screen tv. in the corner is a wooden cupboard with glass out front so you can see all the items on display. it holds antique looking alcohol bottles, as well as pocket watches and other valuables. the objects in there alone are probably worth more than my apartment and my paycheck put together.

but the windows covering the walls of the living room from floor to ceiling are probably what amaze me the most. they allow for a great amount of natural light to shine in. and the view. don't even get me started on the view. we're situated quite high up in the building, so on any sunny day you could see really far. the nicest parts of the city stretch for miles ahead, gifting the residents with a breathtaking landscape to look out over.

though dream is nowhere to be found. i say his name a few times as i walk around the apartment searching. it feels wrong to snoop inside his private rooms, so i only knock on the doors. no response. confused, i limp back into the living room again. did he leave? why would he leave? maybe he just went grocery shopping or something. but surely he'd text me so i know? i should call him.

my phone is probably still in my pant pocket. and if i remember it correctly, my pants are most likely still on the bedroom floor. i'm just about to go get them when i notice that the balcony door is slightly open. right, of course this place has a balcony too.

i approach it slowly, taking in my surroundings as i step out into the fresh air. it's a fairly spacious balcony, with room for multiple garden chairs and potted plants. it's made from some kind of dark oak, with a metal railing built around the edges.

and there, on a painted bench pushed up against the wall, sits dream. he's smoking a cigarette, holding a glass of whiskey in the other hand. his emerald eyes meet my chocolate ones, his face immediately lighting up into a smile. a true, genuine one. like seeing me made his day.

seconds quietly pass. i lean against the doorway, my left hand supporting me. he eyes my body, the bruises on my neck, and my pink face. i think i can see him losing his breath. the freckles on his cheeks are even more noticeable in this warm, orange light. the sun grazes his features so wonderfully, that my breathing is lost too. swept away with the gentle breeze.

"sit with me, honey."

i make my way over to him, crawling up in his cozy lap to forget all about the world. as he exhales, i signal to him with my index finger. he carefully places his cigarette in between my lips, letting me take a long drag. the calming poison fills my lungs, and i sigh contently against his chest.

"i could stay here forever with you," he mumbles, "cheesy, i know, but.."
"i could too," i reply.

the sky is showing off a wild mix of colors where it's visible between the high rise buildings. orange, red, pink, yellow, and hints of purple. dream, as a photographer, would call this the golden hour. when even the ugliest places appear beautiful.

he sips his whiskey once more before putting the glass down on the bench beside us. to replace it, he picks up the polaroid pictures from earlier.

"i thought you'd like to see them."

he holds up the first one so i can get a clearer view. the flash makes the photo soft and blurry at the edges. it barely looks real. my eyes are closed, but my mouth hangs open. dream's hand is controlling the collar and my neck. the next photo captures me making eye contact with the camera. my brown hair is a hot mess. saliva is dripping out of the corner of my mouth, and my cheeks are puffy and flushed with salty tears. i look completely out of it. the pleasure has taken over my entire expression.

and lastly, a simple shot of my handcuffed wrists. the angry red marks made by the metal were visible already back then. the contrast between them and my normal milky skin is artsy in some messed up way.

"you- you're stunning.." dream breathes, "and so so sexy."

the compliments fuck up my heartbeat. i want to giggle, and tell him to shut up like i usually do, but something doesn't feel right. an unsettling worry plants its seed in my mind. the roots hurt my brain.

"how many people have you slept with?" i blurt out.

it's jealousy. jealousy is taking over. i know that dream is a... charmer, if anything. in high school he'd be labelled a fuckboy. a player. but i want him for myself. i'm not sharing my dream with anyone else. i've become too attached for that.

it only gets worse when he doesn't respond straight away. moments pass. my hands are almost starting to shake.

"since i met you? none," he reassures me, sniffling, "i couldn't do that to you."

that makes me smile a little, relief washing the anxiety out to sea. while resting his head on top of mine, he sniffles again.

"allergies?" i ask.
"yeah, they're kicking my ass."

the change of topic is only a measly distraction from the question that's been burning in the back of my mind for way too long now. i think dream is taking notice of my worry. his hand loosens the knot on the robe slightly, granting him access to my bare skin underneath. he feels it gently with his fingers. it makes me shiver.

our lips are so close. the following kiss is inevitable. he tastes like sweet pears and menthol parliaments. the whiskey burns on my tongue. it's so slow and delicate that i melt. i wish it never had to end.

"so, what are we?"

my voice is shaky when i speak.

he hums.

"whatever you want us to be."

i kiss him again. quick, but passionate.

"i want to be yours. for real."
"then you're mine. for real," he chuckles.