He Who Weaves Nightmares | PUBLISHED (Available in Print and eBook Format)

Chapter 29 - Once Upon a Hammock

Chapter 29 – Once Upon a Hammock

Dreamer

"Selene."

Deep. A low rumble. Not smooth. Nor polished. Guttural. You said my name in such a quiet, rasping manner that had I not been straining to hear you, I would've missed it.

How I missed the low timbre of your voice that had sketched so many images dark and golden. That had painted so many settings dark and golden. Your voice that had reminded me of your eyes dark and golden.

I knew in memory and in reality, your eyes were moss green—sometimes colored russet—but when I closed my own green ones, I saw yours luminous with specks of gold.

I stirred my vodka tonic which the bartender placed in a flute instead of a highball. Had he served my drink in the appropriate crystal, I'd be slightly tipsy and happy by the second glass instead of seeming like a parched alcoholic requesting for my sixth. Four ounces was such a tiny portion.

Tiny. I never really minded being called that. Perhaps I had just overreacted back then because my being so tiny and your being so... huge had needled my subconscious. Perhaps even back then, my subconscious was defying differences that could've hindered...

What?

Had I been attracted to the quiet giant when I was a child?

I quickly finished my sixth glass and asked for my seventh. An excuse. I needed an excuse.

To say yes. I laughed. Guzzle. Ooh that burned.

Not that I'd ever admit that out loud to anyone. Yet I felt your brothers had a clue. How could they not when I'd nagged them endlessly for weeks before we graduated. And then some on the years that followed.

It had been ten years yet I still could not forget the way you'd said my name.

I remembered the first time you'd uttered my name. We'd played basketball and you were worse than I'd expected someone so tall to be. I still remembered that look on your face. Shock at my skill. Shock at your defeat. I had been feeling wonderful over my small victory. Cocky even. Till you'd compared me to a unicorn. And I had melted.

Then you'd asked me what we were celebrating. I had almost answered I was reveling over the delicious way you'd articulated my name.

But then you'd pestered me about my first work. And I had been extremely shy.

"You better save me a copy, Selene," You'd told me that night you'd bought me and my sisters cheesecake. I had saved you a copy, but where were you?

So much had happened in a decade, you think I'd forgotten about your voice, your eyes. I certainly thought I had given up wondering if I'd done anything ridiculous that fateful night that forced you to disappear from the face of the earth.

Maybe not the earth, but from my world at least.

It wasn't as if we had anything special.

Except on one of those occasions Mom had invited you and Francis over for spaghetti night. My sisters had been ecstatic because they knew you'd be bringing cake and someone else would help us consume the (dreaded) pasta. After dinner, Maya and Iris had dragged Francis to play a computer game and I'd asked you if you wanted to unwind at the backyard.

You'd stretched out on the hammock because you had eaten too much and you were feeling lazy. I was supposed to sit on the steps and stare at the stars, but it had rained that night and the steps were wet.

You'd scooted over and told me we could share the space. I'd blushed and covered my embarrassment by laughing.

"I don't think the sling could stand our weight."

You had raised an eyebrow at me and said, "Are you saying I'm heavy?"

"Well, you are," I'd quipped.

"And you barely weigh anything," you'd responded. Months earlier, I would've lashed at you for saying that. That night, I told myself it would be nice to feel warm in someone's embrace.

Not that I'd been expecting us to cuddle.

But I'd sat on the hammock and the moment I raised both my feet, I immediately toppled on top of you because you were heavy and your weight pulled me down.

For someone who had completed her first book, I could not put into words what I felt that moment. I was sure my cheeks were flaming red.

You'd moved till we were both lying down comfortably. My arms were crossed against my chest. My legs were crossed at the ankles and your feet dangled at the end of the hammock. It was perfect because you could push at the post and make us swing a little. It was cool that night after the rain. The gentle swaying made me sleepy.

And I might've dozed off a bit.

Had your breath not tickled my ear. I felt you inhale as if you were smelling me. That was not the first time you'd done that.

I'd turned my head toward you and you were looking at me.

I'd stared at your eyes and I swore they were luminous with specks of gold.

Had Mom accidentally poured sherry in the sauce?

You'd touched my face with your hand. Your fingers grazed my lips. My heart thudded loudly. Or it stopped beating entirely. I couldn't recall.

What I did recall was a crazy little beast jumping at me and nearly nipping my nose. I fell off the hammock as you got the pint-sized dog off me. Iris had asked Mr. Nguyen if she could keep one of the Chihuahuas over the weekend. How could you say no to an angel?

"What is wrong with you, Diana?" I'd asked the little dog that was still growling at me. I shouldn't be surprised because this was the same one that had tried to bite my ankle that first day.

"She's in heat," you'd said matter-of-factly.

And I'd empathized with the beast.

It was moments like those that made me think perhaps we did.

Or possibly I had just misconstrued it as something more than it ever was.

Francis said you were alive and well. That should be enough to appease me. It had been an illness that had excused your absence many years ago. I should be glad it was nothing grave.

I should move on.

But I couldn't. I needed to know. Had I done anything to push you away?

You were my muse. Hysterical, I know. But I had lost sight of my favorite beasts when I lost sight of you.

"Selene, are you okay?"

Smooth. Polished. Not guttural. Not dark and golden, but blue and blond.

Noah was perfect. Just not perfect for me. His hand on my lower back didn't make me feel warm. I stepped off the stool so I could move away from his touch. Annoyingly, his hand followed, grasping my elbow to help me off the chair before returning to my back. I inwardly cringed.

I looked at the floor to make sure I didn't step on the hem of my dress.

I looked up. And I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My heart thudded loudly. Or it stopped beating entirely. I couldn't recall.

I just saw your eyes. Dark and golden. And I smiled.

**

A/N: It had been a hectic weekend and I wasn't expecting to get any writing done, but I couldn't resist. What's a few more hours without sleep when you can dream awake? ;-)

Dedicating this chapter to @bombinating who's such a wonderful human being. You inspire me to keep on writing <3