dreams ii

She wakes in a cold sweat.

Strong arms tighten around her, holding her flush against a lean, hard chest. Soft lips nuzzle her neck.

“Jus’ a dream, chèrie.”

Rogue scrambles over in his embrace so she can look into his red eyes, glowing in the darkness. She breathes out softly, then tucks both hands behind his head, relishing the soft feel of his hair.

“And yours, Remy? Are they just dreams?”

His eyes burn even redder, more intense. He pulls her closer.

“Oui, ma chère,” he answers almost into her mouth. “You’re real.”

She strains to hear.

“They jus’ dreams.”