You opened your eyes with a yawn, as small birds started to chirp. Was it morning already? They sang their early songs as if the whole world was their stage and you couldn't help yourself but smile at the cheerful melodies. It was, indeed, music that greeted your ears. And it was, indeed, morning. The night was gone and all that remembered you of the darkness and full moon was your cloudy vision and the nightgown you were wearing. A simple, but beautiful piece of cloth that framed your body - almost as if it was made just for you. It seemed so soft like the fluffy cotton clouds on sunny days and felt like the most expensive satin. You purred slightly and reached for the body next to you. The radiating warmth, melted with a soft note of cozy feelings, made your heart flutter as if your whole body could fly away any second. You felt free. More than that: You felt alive.
Everything around you was painted with innocent, foggy textures that illuminated the small room with bright rays of the early morning sun. You sighed almost soundless, snuggled against the warm, nearly burning skin and breathed in the scent of a loved one. A calm taste of home and paradise, too perfect to be called a dream. Your fingers found tousled strands of hair and you began to play with them carefully; afraid to wake the person with your movements. So, instead of waking him up with your touch, you mumbled a sweet good morning in his ear, a sleepy smile still on your face. It just grew bigger as his voice greeted you with the same words, spoken in his native language. Those simple words were magical and bloomed into a low chuckle on his side, his breath a little uneven as he turned to face you. He cupped your cheeks, while he still laughed along with the birds.
"And there I thought I could enjoy my dream of you." A sigh, one of the playful kind, escaped his mouth. Somewhere between a kiss on your forehead and a more demanding one on your lips he started to whisper again, his voice gentle. "I guess you're more awesome in real life, anyway."
It took him another innocent round of butterfly kisses and small giggles on your side to look you in the eyes. That gaze told you more than a book with one thousand pages. But it was perfect, either way; though even perfect was just a mere word to describe it. It was barely enough to transport the feelings you felt.
"You…guess?", you joked, a faint blush on your cheeks. That was the only thing that betrayed your seemingly serious question.
He caught that little detail, of course. And used it totally to his own advantage. He held you close as he began to talk, a Cheshire cat like grin on his lips, while the sun decided to brighten the room even more. "Yeah. You did…things to me in my dream that your real self wouldn't do. If you catch my drift…"
Surely you did, huffed, pouted and looked away from him, your face a bright rosy color. While you faced the wall and watched as the shadows wandered with the shining light it was his time to pout, the smirk on his lips washed away just like the melody of the tweeting birds. He snuggled against you, kissed your neck tenderly and muttered an apology that was too sweet to be taken seriously. He spoke about everything he wouldn't say normally – and maybe that was the exact reason why you started to smile again. He abandoned his ego for a little while –just to push it up minutes later, but still. It was…something. Too much sugar and too much paradise, but it just happened to be the right amount of sweetness you needed to look at him again.
The smirk on his face was back again, exchanged with the playful pout from mere seconds ago. "You could start to show me otherwise, you know.", he mused. "Maybe I will acknowledge your awesomeness then?"
"You think I should compete with my dream-self, just to satisfy you, Gil?" You raised an eyebrow and rolled your eyes. It was no wonder he had something like that in mind. You knew his personality pretty well, after all. And that was just one of his many bad traits.
He just nodded. "Ja. What's wrong with that? I am awesome and you know that. So of course I need to know if you are good enough for me." He closed the distance between you two for a short amount of time. There was no felt eternity, but it wasn't necessary to feel that way to begin with. It would take so much more time to hear his next words that way. Words that were honest and heartwarming. "Which you are, obviously, but I need to be hundred percent sure."
That last sentence, as cheesy as it sounded, made you blush again. Maybe that was one of his good personality traits. Maybe it was one of the beautiful moments shared. And just maybe that was one of the reasons why you felt so safe in his embrace. So you laughed, tapped him gently on the nose and breathed in his scent. You closed your eyes, as a small smile spread across your face. "You're not sure just yet?"
He laughed, his voice deep and his mind filled with thoughts of you – and only you. As if this was a pre-written scene and he just a person to fill out a role and nothing more. It was good that way, though. He couldn't deny that. "Nein. Noch nicht."
With his words being said you opened your eyes again, greeted him with a flash of white teeth and brushed his skin with your lips, so carefully that you almost kissed air. Afraid to break him or the moment. "…and now?"
"Mhm…", he murmured faintly, but came to the same conclusion in the end. "No."
You sighed, stopped the ghostly touches and looked up at him. "And what will it take to make you change your mind, Gilbert? A little bit of this?" You stroked his hair again, then cupped his cheek. "Or this…?" He felt your lips on his own, but all he did was grin as you pulled away and snuggled against him. That wasn't fair of him at all – but as you voiced that childish thought he merely ruffled your hair affectionately and yawned playfully.
"Still not enough?", you pouted.
He answered with a low chuckle. "Not enough~"
You rolled your eyes for the second time that early morning and focused on his shining, red eyes and the sudden, innocence-breaking glint in them as you mumbled a rather dumb question. "What is enough, then?"
He licked his lips, tucked on your nightgown with one hand as the other felt your hot skin. "I could show you."
Every little speck of innocence that was still left died after that last sentence. What once was nothing but teasing turned to passion and longing. Sides no fairytale would ever show greeted the world with sounds no one would ever hear and feelings no one would ever understand or realize. Maybe that was what the earth called a perfect moment. A diamond worth memory that no one could take away from you. If that was a good or a bad thing wasn't yours to decide. They say that memories can hurt, after all. But heaven lay before you, so why should you care? What mattered was the shared, simplified eternity and vanishing time. Tomorrow would come just like any other day, anyway. Might as well treasure the shimmering glimpse of being free. And you did just that – felt free. Felt skin on skin with every part of your body, while the cloth that separated you both soon found its resting place on the ground. What was still left was tainted purity, the soft fabric long gone. You couldn't hide anything now. Not your body, not your feelings.
It was perfectly alright in every aspect of life.
In the end all that you remembered was that falling sensation one could describe as love. The heath cooled down with soft spoken words, a shattered picture on the ground and clothes decorated with the sparkling and glimmering glass shards. And while the sun flashed their bright light all the way into the small room you closed your eyes and breathed in the thoughts of happiness, your ripped nightgown forgotten. You wouldn't be able to wear the torn satin ever again. And what was once burning flesh was now replaced with cozy warmth that melted away into coldness, once your mind turned blank for a second. That little speck of nothingness took away all the sunshine in the blink of an eye.
You mumbled softly, searched for the body heath, but couldn't find it. "…Gil?"
No answer. You began to wonder, reached out again, only to come up with the same conclusion: He wasn't there. But that couldn't be – he was real, alive, just a moment ago. People don't vanish that easily. Still, the only thing that your cold hands grasped was the blanked wrapped around your body. When you opened your eyes groggily all that greeted you was silent darkness. There was no melody from singing birds and the only light that filled the room belonged to the ghostly face of the moon. You blinked, searched, again, to no avail.
"Of course.", it struck you. Of course he wasn't there. He wasn't there for days, months, years.
"He's dead…", you whispered. A simple, yet haunting sentence.
But as light filled the blackness -after you pressed the switch of your bedside lamp- the sight of a broken photograph mocked you. A picture of him on it, a smile as big as his ego on his face. You looked on the ground, noticed the small shards that were scattered across the room. It was still so cold… The reason for this could be found between the broken glass, because there laid your nightgown, still ripped apart. And it almost felt as if this whole dream had been a reality all along.
"Be careful what you wear to bed at night, you never know who you'll meet in your dreams."