Ultraviolence | Vance Hopper x Reader - The Black Phone FanFiction

Chapter Fourteen; That Feeling

XIV

I dreamt of palm dreams in black and white.

I've never dreamt of something so titillating and exotic. The trees swayed through the wind, there was a large sign on top of a hill that read hollywood. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I awoke to a strange entity, something strange like acid bubbling inside of me. Shadows jest on the walls as cars passed by, and then red and blue lights, and then I realized it was still dark outside. Night and day. An endless loop of hell and heaven.

Vance breaths beside me, his chest rising and falling with every beat of his black heart. I rest my palm on top of his chest, feeling the heat of his body. Most of the house is quiet, everyone is asleep. I remember the palm trees in black and white. My wrists were tied up with a telephone wire and I wore shirtwaist dress. Some sort of kinky domestic housewife foreplay. Nothing really happened. The dream was overall meaningless.

But it was so picturesque. Flashes of imagery I could barely make out; motel six, the palm trees, cigarettes and a belt. I thought I might belong in a colorless world, everything's less personated and vibrant. I wouldn't be able to see Vances blond hair and blue eyes. They'd be grey, baring a resemblance to the clouds.

It begins to weep outside.

I slip out of bed and open the window, welcoming in the fresh misty air. Rain droplets scatter across my lips and I taste them. I smile.

"Y/N?" The croak of a masculine voice erupts behind me. "What time is it?"

"It's raining," I tell him, then turn around.

Vance sits up, his hips slightly lifting. His hair is in a braid that I embellished for him hours ago before our slumber. His gaze shifts towards the clock on my nightstand and his eyes widen.

"It's still late," He reminds me then collapses back in the bed, sinking into the dent he made in my mattress. "Get back into bed."

I disregard him with blatant ignorance and push open the curtains. The only light that illuminates the room is the moon, full and bright. I then open the window and a big wave of chill breeze hits my room and Vance makes a peculiar, aghast, slightly offended noise.

"Y/N! Close the god damn window." He shrieks and huddles up into the blanket more. "You're gonna get us sick."

I shrug and kiss him, throwing my body into his and curling up in his lap. He embraces me back, his hands traveling up my back and into the back of my bra. I allow him to unclip it, giggling into his mouth.

"It might get hot in here so," I say, the sensual enmity rising in both of our bodies. "The window stays open."

Vance nods in agreement.

"The window stays open."

• • •

I suppose the dream made me a little more than titillated.

I draw on the window that fogged within minutes into our little escapade. I draw a small palm tree, dripping sweat from not only my body but Vance's. I lick my lips and they taste of skin and salt. My stomach growls loudly.