for lov3s_ang3l_18

Dreaming of You

~flow19~

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 thing she did when she woke up.

                There is a picture of her and her eight sisters and another one of him and his eleven brothers. There is a picture of the two of them on stage with their second family, the people whose laughter and tears they have shared with over the years. For a moment, he wonders what all fifty one of them are up to but he lets the thought float away. He knows they’re happy wherever they are.

                There is a picture of her and her family and another one of him and his family. There is a picture of the two of them and some of their well-meaning friends in a party. Kris chuckles at the sight they made in the picture. He still finds it a miracle that they both managed to smile when everyone else looked too busy to smile at the camera as Yunho took the picture. Heechul and Jessica were busy in their own little world. Sehun and Luhan were busy goofing around. Kai and Taemin were too engrossed in their conversation. Tiffany was busy playing with Sunny’s then pink hair and Changmin and Kyuhyun… Well, they were busy being Changmin and Kyuhyun.   

                Then, there is a picture of him and her and it’s just the two of them. It is one of the stolen moments that was caught in camera thanks to Chanyeol. Kris smiles as he looks at himself in the picture, grinning like an idiot; his arms around her slim frame; her face tipped upwards as she looked in his eyes. He’s sure all she saw in them was all his love for her.

                Kris moves away from the fireplace, knowing he hasn’t accomplished the task of finding her. A quick trip to the kitchen, anot