My Dream Girl Prt. 2

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My dream guy part two

Warnings: Crude language and subjects. Mentions alcohol use.

Words 1420

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"I do exist!" I shout as my fist comes in contact with the cold table. My eyes go wide once I realize that she has vanished. I let out a frustrated sigh as I move the chair from out of my way to pace back and forth. I'm going crazy. I love this girl, and she doesn't even think I'm real. I don't blame her, of course. Because I only see her in my dreams, but I know she's real. She has to be. There's no way my brain could make up such perfection. And she knows things that I don't, how could my brain do that? She's real. I know she is.

She just doesn't believe I am, and it is starting to piss me off. She probably thinks I'm insane. She probably thinks she's going insane for talking to someone she has never met... physically. Well, I don't care. I am insane and I embrace it. Maybe she should too.

What if she doesn't want to? What if she doesn't love me like I love her?-

I jolt awake, my lungs burning for air as I scan the dark bedroom. It feels as though I had just run a mile, when in reality I have only had a nightmare. The dream itself wasn't really the nightmare— I mean, stuck into a small box shaped room is pretty scary but it's nothing compared to the thoughts I have. That's the real nightmare, the doubts I have of myself, and of her feelings. I mean, of course she likes me. Why wouldn't she? She has told me she doesn't have a boyfriend, and I have told her I am also single... sort of.

I also see her every night— well, almost. I probably should tell her what I do when I don't show up... but I don't want her to be disappointed.

But then again, I don't exist. How could you be disappointed in someone who doesn't exist?

Maybe she won't care.

I sigh, scanning the room I'm in. I look over to the closed bedroom door, the crack underneath providing the smallest bit of light. I can't help but think these walls are at least six inches thick, because I can only slightly hear the loud music from the living room as it shakes the house. I then look over at the hideous brown curtains pulled in front of the window to get rid of any light from either the moon or the streets.

This house is practically designed for loud parties. The living room set up with tables all around to hold drinks, and wooden floors to clean up easy spills. Not to mention there's a huge ass dance floor that has not only flawless speakers but a whole bar. The bedrooms were undoubtedly made for horny teenagers wanting to 'escape reality.' There's a whole drawer specifically for condoms in each room, which I believe there are three. I'm in the one bedroom with a bathroom.

Speaking of bathrooms—

I push the sheets off of me, traveling into the small foreign restroom. I sigh, splashing water onto my face. Once I open my eyes back up my eyes lock onto the face behind me.

I scan her appearance, she's wearing a long button up shirt that is at least 2 sizes too big — God knows whose shirt that is, and she only has panties on. I turn around, giving her my full attention. "What?"

"Is this not going to go anywhere?" She mumbles, her eyes looking up into mine. I shrug, pushing past her as I walk to the dresser. "I mean, you immediately put your clothes on afterwards... I almost expected you to bolt right then until you laid down."

I'm my defense... if I had went to bed without clothes on,  Y/n would've seen me naked, and I know she wouldn't like that. It would give her nightmares, literally. But of course, I can't use that excuse, or I would sound absolutely crazy.

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