Dreaming of You
He likes it when he dreams of her.
In some dreams, they are just at home and they’re lounging about, eating, watching TV or DVDs, cuddling. He dreams of them sitting on the sofa with him on one side; one arm resting on the armrest while his other arm is wrapped securely around her shoulders. She is cuddled next to him; her body close yet comfortable against his. She rests her head on his chest as she lifts her long legs off the floor and onto the sofa. She sighs happily and they stay that way, perfect and content.
In some dreams, they are somewhere in the city. Sometimes they’re in the park and they’re running after each other or playing among the swings and seesaws. Sometimes they’re in the mall and he’s patiently accompanying her as she shops, keeping her close to him as they watch a movie or feeding her from time to time as they have dinner. Sometimes they’re in a bar, drinking the night away. He likes it more when she lets herself loose because when she does, he often finds her flushed against him; her back against his chest as they move in time with the fast music.
He likes it when he dreams of her because he gets to relive all those memories of her.
Kris likes it that way because it keeps him excited to sleep and excited to wake up to make more memories with her.
He feels the warm glow of the sunlight on his face and stirs in his sleep, shifting his face away from the window. He waits for a moment before he slow opens his eyes, blinking sleepily. His forehead furrows as he realizes that the other side of the bed – the side that is hers – is empty. He reaches out and touches that side of the bed. It is still warm.
Kris sits up, more awake now as he looks around the bedroom. No sign of her. Pulling the covers off his half- body, he swings his legs off the bed and his feet land onto his soft bedroom slippers. He gets up, noting that it is still early in the morning as declared by the clock on the bedside table. He crosses the length of the room and opens the door of the bathroom. Darkness greets him.
He closes the door and walks out of the room. The house is silent, in order and pristine. Kris walks down the stairs; the newest addition of the living room catching his attention. He smiles, making his way to the small fireplace in the room that now has a couple of picture frames sitting above it. They weren’t there the night before and idly, he wonders if putting them was the first...
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