YOU [Tonick] H.H. #1

Alternative ending.

"Mister Austin-Lopez ..."

Like a glimpsed melody of a song that is leaving a mark, the beautiful marriage words were constantly repeated in an echo that, as the seconds passed, was hidden in the distance while the photographic memories became increasingly blurred. A heavenly stage, for sure, but a chilling reality movie that was being played unconsciously, a color screen, which a gray scale began to replace it, putting out the fire of a fantasy.

That even seemed like a dream...

Suddenly Nick's slim figure began to move involuntarily as his rocket ship returned to the real world and, not really expecting it, he woke up shaken, feeling the silky caress of his bed under his buttocks. His blue eyes widening, agitated in a raucous way as did his breathing. His chest rose and fell with an incoherent movement that squeezed the lump in his throat.

But, his consciousness, he could still hear it:

"... Live a dream ..."

"... Where you're the only thing I touch, I feel and I hear..."

"I love you, my favorite bear ..."

Phrases that echoed distantly in his ears as if they were figments of his imagination, as if everything he had ever experienced was a romantic dream.

Feeling with his light hand, he felt a huge bulge creating a wide knoll at his side, under a layer of quilts that slid all over the unknown figure. He turned swiftly to discover who it was, a tiny hope that the hardened volume was his adored husband, but found the peaceful intrusive face of a pretty young girl dozing as if the chestnut's sudden awakening had not interrupted her world of ideal dreams.

Nick's heart clenched as if a fist was clenching inside his throbbing, cornering it and his slightly blond eyebrows shot up as he realized that he had been sleeping with someone else and not with Tony, the true love of his life. Had he gotten very drunk on his own wedding night and slept with one of the guests under the reckless effects of alcohol?

He questioned himself who the hell was that girl who was at his side, with whom he had surely shared a wonderful night of sex, which he now regretted. Who the fuck was she? Where the fuck was Tony? He needed to know where that stupid dancer was, he needed to be by his side, snuggle into his arms and escape the fear that was growing uncontrollably inside him.

The mysterious young girl shifted uncomfortably beside him, but remained in her dreams anyway. The sheets slid as if they had a life of their own to the outline of her shy breasts, her brown hair decorated with hazel sparks made a work of art in her wavy strands, fell long behind her perfectly defined figure and Latin skin.

It seemed that the night was not as terrible as he had assumed, which was greatly appreciated, if the intact makeup on her sleepy countenance did not tell him otherwise. Although the girl was wearing one of his narrow blue T-shirts, and that was what worried him.

He checked his own vanilla body and realized that his torso and abdomen were bare but his pants still remained attached to his legs, making him constantly sigh in relief and terror. Why was he dressed like that? Shouldn't it be in his newlywed outfit or something that relates to his wedding?

Stealthily, he slipped out of his bed so as not to wake his sudden night's companion and set about looking for a pair of sandals and a sweater in his closet. His energetic expressions were responses that the drowsiness had left him as he made his way to his bedroom bathroom and wet his face to make sure he had really woken up. The mirror looked back at him and reflected a bruised mark from a hickey on his neck that he instinctively assumed might belong to a certain brunette college student with delicate curves.