𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

017. good morning, sunshine!

NAOKI'S EYES FLASHED OPEN, her heart jolting as she sat up, sweat coursing down her back and sticking her to the sheets.

Beside her, a boy twitched, stirring. His voice was slurred, muffled with sleep. "Noki? You okay?"

Naoki jerked. 

No. No, not possible. It couldn't be him. She couldn't have dreamed him up, not her real boyfriend. Her life— her love— he had to be real. 

She couldn't be with him again. 

Not him.

She grabbed his shoulder, flipping him over, heart racing.

Theo Sun-Laurent blinked at her, eyes swollen from sleep, a trail of drool down the side of his cheek. "Whazza?"

Naoki's stomach dropped. 

ILLIAS' EYES FLUTTERED OPEN TO THICK GLASS. For a moment, it was Cartier's again, and Naoki and the Queen were duelling viciously before him. 

But no. Just white. A dead, white hallway. Too-bright lights. A glass box. And a straightjacket.

He had been so damn close. So close to getting her back. He had almost convinced her. She had looked at him with those soft eyes. She had her pink hair, like before. 

He was so. Damn. Close. 

Illias screamed, body contorting with rage, bucking against his restraints. No doctors came, no nurses ran. They were used to this. 

Someone had stopped him. Somebody had interfered. She was so close. 

Illias stilled. Sun-Laurent. It must have been. It must have been. The dirty mind-freak, the one who could see into his head, the one who knew all his plans moments before they happened...

Sun-Laurent.

Illias tremoured, eyes bulging. 

He had taken so much from Illias already. Naoki. Popularity. And he wouldn't stop taking. 

Illias twitched, fury building like champagne in a bottle. 

"She'll be mine," he whispered. An oath. A threat.

NAOKI CLAPPED A HAND OVER HER MOUTH. Her shoulders wouldn't stop shaking, her breath uneven. "No, no no no. Oh God. No that's not— Theo—"

He sat up instantly, sheets sliding off his bare chest and puddling on the bed. "Noki, what's wrong? Did I—" he groaned, slapping his own forehead. "Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you that. My tongue slurred. I'm not him, Naoki."

Not him. Not him. Not him. Not Noki, either. 

She took a deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Just like Becky, the therapist, said. Theo watched her patiently, worried, his heavy brows creased with concern.

When her breathing levelled, he extended an open hand. "You okay?"

She took it, warily, her hand sliding comfortably into his warm grip. He held her perfectly. Not too tight, not too loose. He was real. This was real. "I— I had a bad dream."

"Even after I said sweet dreams? Damn, I need to work on my manifesting. Should I get a journal?" he blinked at her solemnly.

She laughed, elbowing him. "Shut up, Sun-Laurent."

"What was your dream about?" he asked softly, pressing her hand comfortingly. Her heart steadied a little more, flowing into the stillness of his grip.