To Dream or Not to Dream

Until Then

Author's Note: Hello everyone!  Accidentally published my draft the other night before it was complete, so sorry about that. Thanks for the comments and votes last chapter! They gave me encouragement to continue. 🥰

Another long one! Beware, there is a lot of angst in this chapter.  But... this is not the end.  Also, it is a very long chapter and not edited very well.  I may alter this in the future.  As always please enjoy and please comment/vote because there are very few things I enjoy more than seeing your comments and votes! Please make my day <3

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Toronto Canada - 2 months later- February 2017

Floating between two worlds, waking and dream, had never felt so comfortable. 

Yuzuru's mind hummed at the feeling of being partially conscious, his physical senses aware before he could put reason to anything. The only things he could perceive were the soft heat of the body that lay next to him, the cotton sheets against his bare skin, and the smell of lavender from the hair that was splayed across the pillowcase- dangerously close to tickling his nose.

He instinctively shimmied closer to Isabella, arms snaking around her waist.  Settling in until the entire curve of her back lay completely flush against his chest, bare skin to bare skin, he sighed deeply in contentment.

As his mind became more aware of his surroundings, so did his hands. They spread over the expanse of her abdomen exploring the smooth skin, enjoying the silkiness beneath his fingertips and the subtle quickening of her breath.

For the first time this morning, his eyelids gradually opened in a haze, falling upon the graceful curve of her shoulder. The sunlight had cast a glow on her skin and he couldn't help but to blankly stare at the sight, captured by its beauty.

He wanted nothing more but to run his lips across it. So he did, softly, lazily placing his lips on the tender skin.

Moving to the skin of her neck, he was caught up in a memory from the night before, from when his tongue ran over this very spot.  He had been utterly captivated by the strained sounds he coaxed from her lips last night. The recollection quickened his pulse, dispelling any remnants of sleep. Reenacting that sound seemed like his highest priority at the moment.  

Isabella shivered in his arms, pulled from the depths of slumber.

"Yuzu," her voice was raw and unadulterated.

He continued his actions until he felt her body arch against his in response. At the movement, his hand encircled her hips, pressing her firmly to him. 

Isabella moaned softly, the curve of her behind fitting tightly against him, their bodies matching up perfectly. She could intimately feel just what this early morning proximity had done to him.

What came afterwards was nothing short of bliss. The kind of pleasure that made distinguishing between reality and a dream challenging.

However, as the hours unfolded, it became glaringly apparent that they were not dreaming. Reality descended upon them with a weighty force, compelling them to confront the consequences of neglecting their responsibilities. Regrettably, this reality painted a picture more reminiscent of a little boy losing his dream, than living one.

That same morning, Yuzuru would eventually come to the realization that he had missed sixteen urgent phone calls- each one informing him that he had missed his flight to the Four Continents competition.

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