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Waking to a Dream

A Short Story

By Kayleigh TurnerPublished about a year ago 2 min read
Waking to a Dream
Photo by Zach Reiner on Unsplash

“Wake up, darling,” his voice a childish purr to my ears. A smile spreads across my closed lips, lopsided and sleepy. My hand dances in patterns by my side, absentmindedly stroking the still warm but vacant space beside me. I roll over, observing the left side of the bed, confused to see nothing but crumpled sheets. Warm beams of light, transcending through the open window and trickle down the opaque drapes; delicately floating on a warm sea breeze, soak the ornate bedroom in an angelic haze. Rich, floral scents and coastal sea birds in rhythmic chorus invigorate my senses.

Eyes blinking, I tilt my head up. Only then do my eyes stop searching for him. I catch my breath and take in his image; a leaning silhouette, engulfed by the ascending morning’s light, and, framed by the white ornamental doorframe.

“Good morning,” he whispers gently, in a playful tone. My smile grows wider, touching my cheekbones. Without another thought, I kick the remaining sheets to the foot of the bed, my previously entangled legs free and hastily reaching for the mattress’ open edge. I tiptoe across the dark, hardwood floor. My footsteps excited and energised all but hover above the ground. My uncontrollable eagerness resembles that of a small child on Christmas morning. In spite of my clumsy footing, I make it to the balcony unscathed. I fall into him, his steady arms wrapping around my bare waist. I press my face into the curve of his neck, warmth washes over me and calmness settles deep within my chest. My breathing steadies as I let out a low sigh. I gently pull back, but only far enough so I can study his face. Smiling and thoughtful, his eyes a darker shade of caramel, lips lightly chapped – probably due the sea salt coating the air – and, soft tousled curls, resembling obsidian in colour but not in touch. After a moment I realise the intensity of my gaze is making him uncomfortable. I passionately kiss him on the mouth. Pulling him into me, I morph my body to his. The world melts away, the distant sea birds’ chant becoming white noise. A gust of warm wind wraps around us, playing with our hair. I unconsciously breathe in his sweet, earthy scent, as he presses me harder into him. Our movements in complete harmony with each other enkindle a romantic polyphony that electrifies my skin and warms me. We pause, gasping, burning eyes locked together as if passing an unspoken message. A magnetic hunger entwines us once more. Our open lips, a delicate crescendo that’s zealously intensifying, is an unspoken question that somehow resembles more of a promise. We move together, a perfect duet. It is a song only soulmates can sing; intimate, radiating and inextinguishable.

Love

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Kayleigh Turner

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    Kayleigh TurnerWritten by Kayleigh Turner

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