[Askoga]: 89.Short Stories.Mature.Shadows Before the Sun

In the darkness of pre-dawn, I wake, stretch, yawn. I roll over, thinking of the dream I'd had, and then I see her. A dream. As always, I can't believe she's real, her vibrant colors—all dormant now, but lurking—her sheer beauty—never hidden. I softly brush my fingers on her cheek, swiftly withdrawing as her eyelids flutter. But she does not wake, so I stroke her cheek again. Lifting my head, I place a feather-light kiss on the soft rose of her cheek, even as my hand moves lower, tracing patterns over her silken skin.

So entranced by her boundless beauty, I don't even notice her move, but suddenly my hand is captured, just at the curve of her hips. Ensnared by more than just her delicate hand, I watch as a smile blooms at the corners of her sensuous mouth. Her baby-blue eyes flutter open, assaulting me with the awesome wonder of her entire smile.

“G'morning,” I say distractedly, beginning to move my hand over her soft, silken skin, as she releases it again. I wonder, watching her lips curving with such grace, how I ever mistook other things for lovely before I saw her smile.

Her fingers brush my cheek, and then she raises her hand to run her fingers through my hair. Or so I think at first, having forgotten the gleam in her baby-blues. She pulls, ever so gently but insistently, my head lower, and my lips meet the startling velvet of hers. And in that moment all thought vanishes, like shadows before the sun.