- RAYA -
All I get are two texts: one from Dex and one from Dad saying that all went well and they’re going to drop my things at the guest house. They must have no idea how panicked I was the deeper and deeper in thought I got about how stupid of an idea this was for them to go get my stuff.
Dex had a shotgun pointed at him yesterday, and they thought it was a good idea to return there today? Really?
Obviously I wasn’t quite awake enough this morning to realize how important it was to try to talk them out of it, and I completely bla that on Dex for showing up here and falling asleep in my room with breakfast and coffee waiting and the unexpected revelation that he had another dream. It was one shock after another. How was I supposed to think clearly after that?
But now that I know they’re both okay, I can finally take so deep breaths and stop worrying about how I would be responsible for getting the heir to Mobius dia killed, not to ntion my own father.
The rest of the day is uneventful. Dad texts to let know he has sothing to do with Patty and asks that I call him if I need anything. Rory checks in and sends a few photos of her and Westin eating delicious food in beautiful London. And Dex sends another photo of Moira curled up in his bed.
"Your dad and I dropped the boxes off in the guest house, but we didn’t want to unpack anything until you pick a bedroom."
Pick a bedroom? How many rooms does this ’guest house’ have? For so reason, I imagined there would only be one room for sleeping, but I admittedly have very little experience with guest houses. Is it the size of a regular house?
I want to tell him that any room at all is fine, but then that might sound like I’m expecting him to unpack my stuff. So I keep it simple.
’Thank you so much, Dex.’
He sends another avocado gif—this one smiling with a thumbs up as its pit rolls out—and I have to wonder just how much this man loves avocados.
’No problem at all. See you tomorrow.’ He sends back.
With nothing else to do, I fall asleep, wake up to nurses checking on , and then fall asleep again when the sun has finally set out the window, but only after praying in earnest that I don’t have another dream of Dex.
It’s my final night at the hospital. Tomorrow I’m actually going ho with the guy, so so reprieve would be nice in case I’m actually reckless enough to want to tear my clothes off and attack him the mont we’re alone again.
No such luck.
This ti Dex is in the shower. It’s like one of those scenes in a movie. I find him there, turned away from so that I’m able to take in the full beauty of his rolling muscles and perfectly firm ass. A curse word leaves my lips before I can stop it, and he turns... honey brown eyes on again just like in real life. But this ti he’s dripping with water, and those droplets cling to his eyelashes and roll down every beautiful inch of him just like I want to.
"Fuck, Raya," he says, swallowing hard so that my eyes follow the motion.
"I know." I shake my head, and we both stand there—frozen in the impossibility of this dream. It’s in that mont that I realize it might just be him. It might just be the real Dex in this dream with —as crazy as that seems.
"We could just... not do this," I say, but my feet are taking closer to him, and with each step his gaze becos more heated and more hungry. He doesn’t respond. If I didn’t see his chest rising and falling, I might think he wasn’t even breathing until I step under the water with him and his bottom lip drops open, releasing a heavy sigh.
"Why are you here?" His brows pinch together, and he raises a hand to smooth the hair back from my face. "Why are you here, Raya?"
I don’t have an answer to that question, and it makes my chest ache. Because just like him, I want an answer—I do. When I feel that ache push up out of my chest and form into tears, my head drops. But he’s there, filling my vision and touching gently... like now he’s afraid I will break and he doesn’t know what to do with .
When he tilts my chin so that I have to et his gaze again, the depth of those eyes and all the questioning that is there threaded right through the need makes it clear. In that mont, I know it has to be the real him.
"Are you here with ?" The words co out sounding ridiculous, but I can tell he imdiately receives their aning.
His thumb runs across my cheek, and I can feel the clothes of this dream clinging to now with how wet they’ve beco under the shower. His brows pinch, and he nods—giving my answer.
"How?" My lip trembles, and his thumb is imdiately there, running across it before he slowly—so slowly—bends down and touches my lips to his. It’s like a test.
The initial kiss is gentle, and I let him lead... let him pull away while his hand is cupping my face, fingers threaded into my wet hair as he looks back and forth between my eyes and then down at my lips. And then he makes so kind of unspoken decision—or maybe he loses grip on the tether leashing his control—because in the next mont he is kissing fiercely, growling into my mouth and teasing whimpers from my lips.
It’s just a dream, I tell myself. It’s just a dream—a really, really good dream.
Thankfully when I awake, I’m alone without anyone fussing over , wondering about my health. Sun is peeking through the windows, dawning on this Sunday morning. And I still have no answers about the dreams—only more questions and the resounding sense that for whatever reason this is happening, it’s going to continue until it moves forward to the next step of sothing. And I hope that next step is soon, because as perfect as those dreams are, they’re also exhausting.
It all started shortly after I began interning at Mobius dia. Then Dex showed up. And almost imdiately after his arrival, I have found myself in one of the most unlikely situations—in an accident, without a ho, and on my way later today to stay in his guest house.
If it’s not obvious that these dreams are so kind of catalyst toward a rapid change with the very real Dex Mobius at its center, then I don’t know what is. And now I’m nervous... so nervous to see him today.
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