dream #1

'What do you say?' he gestures for me to get in.

I get in his Jeep silently, smoothing out my nightgown.

It feels ridiculous, running away in the middle of the night in my nightgown, but there's no way I can refuse him.

Without another word, he speeds off into the darkness.

And all the while, I try to figure out what I'm supposed to think. This isn't real. I'm not supposed to see him for another six months. He was supposed to disappear, and yet, he's sitting across from me, pulling the steering wheel left.

All those weeks I spent thinking about the next time I'd see him, never in my wildest dreams would he be at my doorstep. It's too good to be true.

I look over, studying his profile. He hasn't changed, not one bit. It's only been a little over a month, and I still can't help but to admire his tousled blonde, brown hair. His jaw line is just as defined, hard, yet beautiful.

What I am doing in his car?

'When are you coming back?' I ask instead.

He glances at me, constantly conscious of the road ahead, 'I'm here, aren't I?'

I don't ask him what he's doing here. I don't know why. I feel like if I ask, he'll disappear... I feel like, it'll all turn out to be a dream... He won't have really turned up outside my house in his black Jeep. He won't have really thought at me at all.

'Everything's ready for November,' he adds after a moment.

'Already? I don't hide my surprise. 'Am I...' I don't dare finish my sentence.

At the red light, he takes a chance to look at me properly. His hazel eyes glisten in the dark, '...with me?'

'Yeah,' I whisper, the concept choking me. I want it so bad. I want to be with him.

BUMMER. It was only a dream... This is why reality sucks. 

a snippet #2

The engine cuts to the eerie silence. I rouse awake, as a door opens, closes, and opens again, cold air chilling my body.  

'Shh, careful,' Nate lifts me effortlessly out of the car. I grab onto him instinctively.

I tell myself that I'm sober, that I don't need to be carried like a child, that I can handle myself. But his warmth, his intoxicating scent invites me to burrow into his shirt. Maybe I'm drunk enough to forget about this, but that's a lie too. I'll remember everything tomorrow. 

I'm vaguely aware of him trudging through long grass, the blades tickling my bare feet. 

Where are my shoes? 

'Nate,' I murmur, looking up, rubbing a hand over my eyes. A headache pounds at my skull. My hair sticks to my face. I know I'll try wash it multiple times and not get out the disgusting, greasy feeling. I know I'll hate myself for this tomorrow. 

'How do I get in?' he asks me softly, setting me gently on my feet. An arm remains securely around my waist, letting me put my weight completely on him. 

'Under the- the plant?' I manage to get out, realizing my throat was horribly dry and gravelly. 

He finds the key in no time and lets us in, efficiently and somehow silently too. I stumble ungracefully, cursing myself mentally. I can't let him see me like this. Not Nate. 

He maneuvers through the dark house, finding my room with no problem and sets on my bed. 'Get undressed. I'll be back in a bit.' 

I'm about to make a comment about him never going to see me naked but he's gone before I can even open my mouth. I do as he says though and slip off my jacket, stripping off my torn dress and tights. Just as I get under my covers and lay my head on the pillow, he reemerges with a glass of water. 

He sits on my bed, handing me the glass. 'Drink,' he tells me, his blue eyes worn with concern. 

I take a sip, relieving my throat, and then hand it back to him. 

He shakes his head, 'All of it.' 

I look at him, saying nothing, daring him. 

Nate sighs, and moves to sit next to me, taking matters into his own hands. He takes the glass and sits me up straight, ignoring my protests. 

'You'll thank me in the morning,' he says, lifting the cup to my lips. 'It helps with the headache.'

I don't know why I let him do it, but I just do. My eyes flicker up to his, but he's not watching me. He's looking at the water. Or my lips. He lets me take tiny sips at a time, pulling away each time to let me swallow. 

The intimacy scares me. Because it's Nate. Nate doesn't do the chivalrous act. He doesn't save the damsel in distress. He sticks to himself, and he does everything he does, for himself. 

At the thought of this, I take the glass from his hand and down it all in one go. 

The corner of his lips quirk up, but he says nothing. 

I sink down into my bed again and pull my covers to my chin. He leans down, and to my utter shock, plants a light kiss on my forehead. 'Sweet dreams.' 

I don't say anything at first, but when he turns to leave, I reach out and touch his hand. 

He looks back, an eyebrow raised. 

'Thank you,' I whisper with vulnerability in my voice. 

He lingers a moment more, as if contemplating what to say, but he only turns and walks away, clicking the door shut after him.

a snippet (of what? i don't know) #1

"An Angel, Black and Blue"

Shapes. Shadows. Whispers of death.

It’s like a joke. Some sort of entertainment. Entertainment of life.

Circling round. A blur of movements.

And just the eyes.

All is just the eyes.

Those blue eyes. Piercing. Intense gaze. Perfectly round, perfectly clear.

But they run so deep. The water looks endless. The previous scars afloat, not yet healed. Maybe never.

And they dance. They dance until the crowd gets bored. And they strike. Hard and down, fast and merciless.

Nothing left to live for. Just the thrill of the ride.

Last dance. Last chance to make a difference.

What is it? You wonder.

Not even I, the author, have a clue.

Dreams and visions. Lives wished to be lived. Stories waiting to be read. But never, never how magical, how miraculous all is.

Never.

Dream it or not. Every night.

Never.

-

Gold glittered in the rays of the sun, glimmering. Diamonds glinted under the surface, the tell tale signs of prosperity.

The devil grins, sharp and cunning. 

Teeth, glistening white. Lips, a deep crimson red. 

Dripping.

I don't know what this is. It's not a story. It's not a poem. I wrote this half asleep, but it's been on my mind lately.

The title, 'an angel, black and blue' is actually from the song It's All About Acting Tough by I Can Keep A Secret.

I don't know what I planned for this. But in my mind, I see a masquerade ball, gold ceilings, gold floors, a curling staircase, and a big, shiny chandelier. Of course there's an evil angel somewhere in between :)