The Prince's Temporary Wife

Officially The End

The soft fall of the autumn rain was a comfort despite the blinding rays of the sun. The room was utterly quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioner running was the only noise. It was dimly lit in the room for the curtains were drawn, my eyes shifted, adjusting, taking in the room before me as I sat up from the bed slowly.

White and teal walls...wooden floorboards...orange and brown curtains...white furnitures...plants...flowers...paintings...yellow lights...comfortable aura...

It was a room I always wanted to have. A cozy, warm welcome of a room. My hands furl and unfurl under the smooth blanket on my body, the sheets dirty white in the dimness of the room. The clock from the doorway says 6:37 am. Two hours from work.

I sigh, slowly laying back down again, enjoying the dream. I engorged myself in the softness of the bed. Large, soft, cool yet warm. Flipped myself, facing the pillows. I nuzzled deep into it.

But the familiarity struck me.

A dream about Chrome. This is a dream about Chrome, I thought half asleep. I smiled, feeling my chest swell in happiness. It had been days since I last dreamt.

I inhaled the scent of the pillow, slowly turning my head to the side.

There, like all my dreams, lay Chrome, the same face I woke up to before. The same cute, peaceful face.

I had the urge to ran my finger all over his face, tracing the contours of his handsomeness.

So I did. This was a dream after all.

The good thing about dreams?

It makes you realize by stitching up the wounds of your heart because like all dreams, they aren't going to come true.

I traced his chin, his mouth, his nose, his cheekbones...

His eyes.

As I dragged my index finger across the fans of his lashes, his eyes flutter open.

I gasped, taking in the beauty in them.

The serene blue green color. Just like the teal walls but a bit lighter. I drew nearer to him. He remained still.

Our face were only inches apart. I smiled, "Chrome," this is a dream so I'll say it, "I hope you're happy."

Then, because this is a dream, I kissed him on the forehead, my lips lingering there for more than a minute. As my lips touch his forehead, I felt a sudden pang in the chest, something sad, painful, and miserably hard to try to forget all the hurt.

I loved him.

Yes, I do.

And I accept it.

I kissed him hard on his forehead. My eyes shut hard because I fear tears might escape them. And they did, running down my cheeks as fast as they could to the base of my chin.

I released him, "I'll never hurt you or Louis, promise. Even if you and the world would never believe me, I'll keep on saying it."

It was so painful and embarrassing, though it was a dream. We lay there staring at each other's faces, not moving at all. My head gets drunk all of a sudden and I felt sleepy again. My eyes hurt like they were going to ball so I frowned, turning around, not able to keep hold of my tears. I drifted back to sleep after then.

****

The dream ended as that. A dangling unanswered statement was all it had for an ending. I sighed as I opened my eyes to the sound of rain. The drizzle on the glass windows softly hummed a music to my ears. Back at home, Keith and I would gladly sleep through the rain and wake up after it ends.