Chapter 5: The dream before the morning
1037 Words
When Lexi stepped into her apartment, everything felt… softer.
The lights hummed low, the room quiet except for the distant ticking of the wall clock. She slipped off her shoes, her cheeks still faintly warm from that kiss. That look in his eyes kept replaying in her mind—tender, careful, as if she was something fragile and precious in the same breath.
She walked to her bed and sat down slowly, fingers brushing the comforter.
Without thinking, she pulled the nearest pillow into her arms, hugging it tightly. Her face buried into the soft fabric as she whispered to herself, smiling,
“God, what are you doing to me, Alex?”
Her heart felt full in a way it hadn’t in years.
There had been no fireworks, no grand gestures—just a quiet café, gentle laughter, a teasing moment that spiraled into a kiss. Yet she felt as if she’d stepped into a chapter she never wanted to end.
Just as she settled under the covers, her phone lit up.
Alex: Did you like today?
Her breath caught. A small giggle slipped out.
Lexi: Very much.
A second later:
Alex: Me too.
Alex: Good night, Lex.
Lexi: Good night, Alex.
She stared at the screen for a moment, her heart fluttering wildly.
Then she whispered into the pillow, “Goodnight, Alex.”
And just like that, she fell asleep with a smile tucked into the corner of her lips, still hugging the thought of him.
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The Dream
She opened her eyes in a place she didn’t recognize—but somehow, her soul did.
The world around her was dipped in honeyed light. A golden field stretched endlessly in every direction, swaying with the wind as though it danced only for her. The sky was painted in watercolor hues—blush pinks, soft lilacs, warm amber melting at the horizon. Everything shimmered like it belonged in a memory she’d never lived but always longed for.
The air felt different. It didn’t just smell like sunshine—it felt like sunshine. Soft. Warm. Gentle. It kissed her skin with the tenderness of a lover’s whisper.
Then she saw him.
Under a great willow tree, its branches bowing as if in reverence—he stood. Effortless. Still. As though he’d been waiting for her since the beginning of time.
Alex.
She didn’t know how she knew it was him. She just did.
He was bathed in gold, sunlight catching in his hair and casting his features in a glow that made her breath falter. His eyes—quiet, storm-stilled—found hers instantly. And in them, there was no confusion. No hesitation.
Only recognition.
The kind of look that doesn’t ask if, but says finally.
Her feet moved before she could think. Barefoot and light, she walked toward him like the earth itself guided each step.
She didn’t speak. Neither did he.
They didn’t need to.
Something ancient was unfolding between them. A meeting not of bodies but of souls remembering each other after lifetimes apart.
He opened his arms.
She didn’t hesitate.
Lexi stepped into him like a wave curling into shore. His arms wrapped around her—strong, steady—and she sank into him with the relief of someone exhaling after holding their breath for years.
Home.
That’s what he felt like.
Not just safe. Not just warm.
Home.
His hands rested gently at her waist, fingers brushing her skin as if he feared she might vanish. Every touch was familiar and certain, like he’d known her long before this moment. The willow rustled above them. The air sighed. Even time seemed to quiet.
Then he kissed her.
Not urgently. Not hungrily.
But reverently.
Like she was sacred. Like her lips were the answer to a question he had never dared to ask aloud.
The kiss was slow, delicate—achingly tender yet threaded with an intensity that felt like prayer. He kissed her like he understood every silent wound she carried and wanted to love her through all of them.
Lexi melted into him.
Her hands clutched the fabric of his shirt, grounding herself in a moment that felt impossibly perfect. His heartbeat pressed against hers, steady and certain, and in that rhythm she found peace.
She never wanted to let go.
And in the dream, she didn’t have to.
He rested his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing slowly across her cheek. His eyes searched hers like he was memorizing her all over again.
Then his voice—quiet, raw, velvet and lightning all at once.
“Find me.”
The words weren’t loud, but they echoed through her bones, her breath, her soul. As if they were meant for more than the dream.
As if he wasn’t a dream at all.
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The light shifted.
The dream began to fade like sunlight slipping through cupped hands.
She tried to hold onto it—onto him—but morning crept in. The warmth of the field dissolved into cotton sheets. The whispering breeze became the hum of early traffic outside her window.
Her lashes fluttered open.
She was back in her room.
The pillow was beneath her cheek, the blanket tangled around her legs. But her chest rose and fell in quick, shaky breaths. Her skin tingled as though his fingers had only just left it. Her lips were parted, waiting for one more kiss.
Her heart—
Her heart was a mess of butterflies.
Of something deeper.
Something unnamed.
She stared at the ceiling, dazed, a dreamy smile curling at her mouth. The echo of his voice lingered.
Find me.
She placed a hand over her chest, trying to calm the chaos, but it was no use. The dream—he—had woven himself into her like stardust into skin.
She didn’t know what it meant.
But she knew one thing with startling clarity:
It wasn’t just a dream.
And she didn’t want to wake up from him.
Not ever.
So her day began—with skin still flushed from magic, eyes searching the quiet moments, and a heart unable to forget how it felt to be held in a world where love was soft, sacred… and undeniably real.
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- Writer
