1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Chapter 29

He woke up to a cold and grey morning in the throes of a nightmare. As his eyes fluttered open and as his bedroom came into view, the dregs of his dream began to fade away. He let out a lengthy exhale, then glanced down to the head on his chest.

No wonder he thought he was suffocating.

He eased himself from under her, gently laid her head down onto the bed, then sat up. The dream had felt oddly real, and he couldn't shake off the sickening feeling of sticky blood on him. His fingers slowly met the spot above his sternum, glad to find that he was still whole. In his dream, he'd been stabbed with a blunt object in that exact spot.

A sigh of relief left him, then he felt silly for even being so uptight in the first place. The contents of one's dream didn't just come through, or the world would be filled with fortune tellers.

Leon pushed himself off the bed and padded to the kitchen. There was no sense in returning to sleep now.

After pouring himself a mug of water, he sat himself on one of the stools, and stared mindlessly at the swirling marble grain of the kitchen island.

'Hey,' she murmured. She was standing at the entrance, her eyes half-shut and her voice soft and raw from sleep. 'You're up early.'

'Yeah,' he muttered. He didn't want to tell her that he had dreamt of himself being stabbed.

Hana wandered to him, then with her arms around him, held him to herself with the top of his head to her chest. She soon realised the intimacy of their position when she patted his head and suggested a sleep-in. He refused to budge, and with his hands on her waist, he soon shut his eyes.

He could hear the even thumping of her heart, strong but quiet through the flesh, bone, skin, and the soft fabric of her nightgown. The distinct scent of her body wash had found its way into the silk, and he could smell it now, in that position they were in.

Her fingers were in his hair, gently combing through the strands and stroking his head. Her own long hair had fallen, forming a curtain around him. The dregs of his dream seemed to fade away, bit by bit. Try as he might, he couldn't draw up its contents in his mind anymore.

'Come on,' she whispered, 'come to bed with me.'

A slight smile crossed his face. Abruptly, he tugged her to him between his legs, eliciting a gasp from her lips.

'What are you doing?' she asked, lightly pulling away, her eyes wide, her palms flat on his chest.

'You want me to go to bed with you?' he questioned with a roguish tug at his lips.

'Hmm?'

'You know what you just said right?'

She must have realised what she had said from the way his mouth curled teasingly for she pulled hurriedly away.

'I said, go back to sleep!' she muttered heatedly. 'Not do anything else!'

His fingers slid over the fabric of her nightie from her waist to the curve of her hips to rest on her thigh.

'Oh? What's wrong with doing anything else?'

~

'But I don't understand!' she exclaimed later with a coffee in her hands. ''Go to bed' means going to bed to sleep, doesn't it?'

They had decided to have breakfast outside today at a cafe she had chosen. It was a quaint little shop with yellowing fleur-de-lis wallpaper and gilt-framed mirrors of various shapes and sizes decorating the walls.

Even the waitresses were dressed to suit the theme. Their neatly pinned up hair was covered by lace caps and they wore starched white aprons over their black dresses. He felt like he had entered a time machine, and had been deposited into the time of Queen Victoria's reign. Great choice, he thought. He hadn't known of this place until Hana mentioned it.