XXXXVIII. Sweet Dreams

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Nephele
When I was locked in that cellar, dreaming was the sweetest part. I used to dream of things I had never seen before, feelings I had never felt, experiences I never had. I spun myself a new world to distract from abandonment.
Dreaming now isn't so sweet.
Now, I dream of things I've had before. The taste of Eris' lips. How it feels to dance with him. The smile that I was lucky enough to earn. His brown eyes in the sunlight. The sound of his voice when he calls me Sweetheart. How it feels to wake up in his arms.
These things were once sweet enough to give me a toothache, but now, I can hardly dream of them fondly, knowing I can't have it when I wake.
I won't have it, rather.
No, when I wake, we'll be just as we should've always been, our fire chilled, our spark dead in the lapse of the friendship I once thought we shared.
But until then, I give in to the warmth of the dreams. I give into the sensations of delight while I can because I will never indulge again. Because I am a weak fool.

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