The Noble War// Tate Langdon

Daydreaming

Lylah's lips parted gently as she said his name:

"Tate." The word burned the air it travelled through, and straight into his ears.

His head cocked instantly towards her voice. His lips parted gently, as if to say her name. But he remained silent, searching for her. He never realised how big his own house was.

"Tate." She repeated. He was sure it was her. It was nearly a whisper, but he was sure it was her. He ran around the house like a crazy person. His shaggy blonde hair slipped over his face every time he turned his head. He did it so fast, so urgently, it was a miracle that his neck hadn't broken.

"Tate." She said. This time he came to a complete stop. The one place he hadn't checked.

The basement.

He went to the door under the stairs.

"I'm just going to open the door and go on in." He thought. "Open the goddamn door Tate." He though to himself. His hand made it's way to the cold door knob. He pivoted his hand and pulled the door open slowly, causing a creak to ring throughout the seemingly empty house. He stared at the stair, descending to the place he feared most as a kid, the place he probably feared most now..

"Tate." She said, louder now. He was getting close. He put his foot on the first step. And the rest was easy. Until the last one.

The infantata was probably near.

"But so is she." He thought. This love was toxic. He knew it was. But he didn't care. Because love is love. This time his lips uttered a word.

"Lylah?" He barely remembered her name. It was a word that time never knew. It seemed like a forbidden word. Like an apple from the garden of Eden. But damn was the apple good. And he couldn't help taking another bite.

"Lylah." He said. It came out easier this time. He looked to his left and saw this nearly white light coming from around the corner. He remembered that he had once said that she was the only light he'd ever known.

"I'm here." She turned around in all her glory. Her long red hair cascaded down to her bare hips. Her seemingly sun-kissed skin illuminated the room. She pursed her red lips. She smirked a little. The only makeup she had on, and it was lipstick. She didn't even have clothes on.

To him, she had never looked so perfect. It was almost to good to be true. She walked lightly to him. She had this Grace that no other creature possessed. She got closer and reached her hand out. She grazed his hip with her nail, lightly, sending shivers down his spine. She walked behind him.

"I've missed you." She whispered into his ear. She walked to the front of him. They stared into each others eyes she smiled without teeth and leaned into him. He pulled from the hug, only to embrace her passionately and kiss her with everything he had. She kissed back. She dug deep into the kiss and pulled away, she ripped his shirt off his fair skin. Tate's hands explored her exposed body. And hers explored his bare torso while they kissed in a flurry.

"Lylah. Lylah I'm so sorry." He whispered.

"I know." She said.

"Why are you doing this? Why give me this forgiveness I don't deserve? It's like you don't know-" she cut him off with a kiss.

"Tate, there are something's that even you don't know." She said.

"What? Like what?" He asked. She pulled away and smirked.

"Like I. Don't. Love. You." She said. The words rolled effortlessly off her lips.

Then he opened his eyes. It seemed line he just blinked. And just like that she was gone again. It was probably the 7th daydream he's had about her. They all end the same. They end with the truth. And he absolutely knows it:

He knows that she doesn't love him.