Because there's a monster living under my bed. Whispering in my ear. There's an angel with a hand on my head. She says I've got nothing to fear. There's a darkness deep in my soul. I still got a purpose to serve. So let your light shine, into my home. God don't let me lose my nerve. (Santana - Supernatural)
Forms twisting in the darkness. She couldn't see in the blackness. One of her senses was lost to her but, oh, how much richer those that remained. Skin alive, hot beneath her fingertips. A hitch of breath, the softest of moans, music to her ears. The light brush of lips scorching a trail over her form. Her mind spun away in the embrace of sweet pleasure. His heady scent flowing into her with each breath drawn. A drug all it's own. Silken hair flowing between her fingers, the tang of salt on her lips. Her soul expanded with every touch, each vibrant beat of thundering hearts. Her name whispered like a reverent prayer, the baby fine brush of hair accompanied by a scorching kiss.
Bliss woke with start. Wide brown eyes searched the darkness while hand reached out beside her seeking a living form. There was none to be found. She knew that before her hand touched the cold sheets but still she had to check. The dream was too real. Her body throbbed, her heart still racing at a fevered rate. Garth didn't have a beard. With a muffled curse she turned over and switched on a light. She only knew one man who did have a beard.
She'd thought the dreams of him were finally over and done with. She swung her long legs out from beneath the covers and grabbed her jeans. There was no point in trying to sleep. Either the nightmares were going to eat her alive or these dreams of him were going to drive her insane. Where the hell was Garth? He could make them both go away by just being near. She tugged her shirt on over her head then concentrated on the task of checking her boots and pulling them on, trying to force the last traces of her dream from her thoughts.
Smooth, practiced movements quickly had her guns checked and in their holsters. The shoulder rig was next. It was mindless, mechanical, something she did every day and did little to clear the lingering sensations playing out in her mind. She sat down on the bed, elbows on her knees, her fingers brushing the last vestiges of sleep from her face. Bliss knew she was awake but it didn't seem to be helping. Her tongue ran over her lips. She could swear she could still taste him. His scent hovered in the room.
"Get a grip, Bliss, it was just a dream." Her voice was a growl that sounded foreign to her own ears. She was on her feet and out the door of her small room as quickly as possible. The plaster walls of the hall vibrated to the base of the music playing out in the club below. The Grotto's nightly entertainment was in full swing. Her pace picked up. She wanted out, away from this place. Away from the dreams that haunted her even while she was awake. She practically ran down the back stairs to the garage.
Her eyes drifted from her borrowed car to her new bike. The bike wasn't finished yet. It was drivable but all the improvements she wanted to make on it weren't complete. Her hands reached out, grabbing a helmet. She slid the side door open and walked the bike out. The wind was biting cold. It swirled through the back alley kicking up the newly fallen snow. Another time she would have stopped to watch the snow devils whip by but not tonight. She yanked the helmet on as she swung a leg over the bike. A flash of lightening through the night sky. Bliss glanced up, a feral smile spreading across her face. She kicked the bike to life. She leaned forward on the bike, her face turned up towards the sky. "Okay Storm, I'll play. You just try and keep up with me."
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Friday, June 04, 2010