Here's a quick blurb of the first time Kat sees him in her dreams:
Once I had arrived back
at our room, shaking but exhilarated, I stripped down to my shorts and tank top
and slid into bed.
I laid there, gnawing
my lip, twirling the flower between my fingers and thinking of the invisible
boy who had given it to me. I moved to lie on my side. Would he bring me
another tonight? I should still be thoroughly horrified at the thought of
someone sneaking in while Anna and I had slept, but I couldn’t bring myself to
feel the same repulsion. If it was, in fact, the boy from the woods, I knew he
wouldn’t harm me. And in all truth, if he came again I hoped I would wake so I
could feel his presence – his warm, soul-stirring presence. The kind of
presence that kept me there with him when any normal person would have run screaming
for the school.
With a longing sigh, I
closed my eyes.
Despite my excitement,
sleep came swift and sweet, scooping me into its arms and carrying me back into
the darkness of the woods. I stood in the same spot as before – the open space
with flowery bushes. Another form materialized, and I jumped. Black shirt, fair
skin – the silhouette from the woods. My invisible admirer.
Except this time, he
didn’t run from tree to tree; he stood exposed, allowing me to soak in his
beauty, saturating my spirit. He towered over me, which didn’t happen often; I
wasn’t a short girl. His eyes twinkled icy blue, the angular attractive lines
of his face a divine masterpiece. His chestnut hair had been cropped close on
the sides but left longer on top, reminding me of a trendy rock star haircut,
but flattering and oh-so-complementary to his porcelain features. And his lips,
his supple lips drew into a knowing, heart-stopping smile as he plucked another
flower from the bush and placed it into my waiting palm.
Honestly, I could have
cared less about the flower this time, I only wanted to feel him – his flawless skin. I reached out
for his face with my other hand, and he stepped back, his smile wavering.
Persistent, I tried again, and he took a bigger step back. Why couldn’t I touch
him? I could see him, feel his presence… but I wanted to experience more of
him.
I searched his eyes
with a scowl, and his own expression melted into a frown. He didn’t like the
distance, either. “What’s your name?” I asked. If I couldn’t touch him, perhaps
I could hear him as a consolation.
He only stared back at
me, sad and apologetic.
My eyes welled with
tears. So not fair.
I looked down to my
flower and held it to my chest. When I looked back up at him, he’d disappeared,
and a foreign ache pierced my heart in agony. I’d only seen him, really seen him for a matter of a short
moment, and he’d left me.
Until next time, my loves <3
-SJ
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