Agent Love ✔️

23~Hold Me Tight

The silver crown nestled on the velvet pillow glittered in the flickering firelight, just like a million silver tears. Delicate little gems of sapphire, emerald, and amethyst were woven into the grand ornamental headdress.

"For you, my princess," a man stood before me, smiling as he gently took the crown and placed it on my head.

I had no clue who this man was, but at the same time, recognition floated through me. And disgust soon followed it. But I had no reason why.

The man wasn't that bad looking. Maybe only a few years older than Jungkook (though definitely not as good looking). His face was youthful and unlined, hair a dirty blonde and hazel eyes gazing into mine— full of... love.

Another roil of disgust shot through me.

"Thank you," my voice sounded polite and foreign in my own ears.

Then the man faded before my very eyes. I didn't understand anything happening in this dream and I felt like any sort of control over it was slipping right through my fingers.

Now I was in a bedroom.

Uh-oh, I couldn't help but think to myself at this new setting.

A cool breeze tickled my legs and I looked down to see I was wearing a very thin nightgown, almost like lingerie, but it was more of a gown. My hair was now down and cascading over my shoulders. It was ten times longer than usual.

"My princess."

I whirled around. The same man from before was sitting on the bed. I hadn't even noticed him there. A dark feeling stormed in me at the sight of him though I couldn't figure out why.

What even was this dream?

Where were my usual dreams of hot guys chilling at the beach with me and piña coladas in hand?

"Come," the man patted the space on the bed beside him.

My body moved forward without permission.

A sudden overwhelming feeling of helplessness surged through me. Even as I gently laid myself down next to the man and he instantly began touching me.

Mother of trucks what was happening???

I began to try and break free from this nightmare even as my body in the dream responded to the man's touches. The panic in me began to separate from the overflowing feeling of dark disgust and I began to realize there were at least two versions of me or whatever person I was seeing through their point of view.

One version was me: Love Genie. And I was freaking out and trying to get the frick out of this dream.

The other version was the person, woman, whom I was seeing through her point of view. This woman was cold, filled with repulsiveness, and anger.

An insane amount of coldness surged through this woman as I began to better separate my own feelings from her.

The man now lowered his lips to the woman's (consequently mine) neck and now began to inch over her body, murmuring things in her ear along with other certain noises.

Anger overwhelmed the woman, hot and so furious that suddenly I was the woman. I no longer was able to separate myself from her. I was just as angry. Hurt. Helpless as the man began to make my body his.

And then the loneliness.

The damn destitution created a gaping hole in my chest. Spreading, devouring me. Darkness was swelling up and I recognized the signs of the coma-like state coming upon me.