Dreams of Longing

Sue stood barefoot on cold marble, her silk nightgown whispering against her skin. Around her stretched a grand hall, its vaulted ceiling disappearing into endless shadows. The air was heavy with the scent of roses, but as she glanced around, she saw that the flowers were wilting in their vases, their crimson petals curling at the edges.

Candles lined the walls, their flames flickering but never extinguishing, casting trembling shapes onto mirrors that seemed older than time itself. As Sue walked, the mirrors caught her attention, drawing her gaze. At first, she saw her reflection, but as she passed each mirror, it changed.

In one, her hair hung in tangled strands, her eyes sunken with exhaustion. In another, she was shrouded in a veil, her face obscured, like a bride destined for a wedding she didn’t choose. A third mirror revealed her in Reed’s lab, standing behind him as he worked, her face pale and ghostly as if she were fading from existence.

She turned away, a lump forming in her throat. The reflections felt too real, too personal.

Ahead of her, the hall opened into a vast room. The floor shifted beneath her, no longer marble but velvet, deep red and soft underfoot. A dark ocean churned beyond the windows, waves crashing silently against invisible barriers. The water reflected a moon far larger and brighter than any Sue had ever seen, bathing the room in an ethereal glow.

That was when she saw him.

The man stood at the far end of the room, his presence commanding and magnetic. He wore a black cloak that shimmered faintly in the candlelight, its lining a rich, blood-red hue. His pale skin and sharp features seemed sculpted from marble, but it was his eyes—deep burgundy, like aged wine—that held her captive. They glowed faintly, pulling her toward him as if they contained secrets she longed to know.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Instead of answering, he stepped closer. His movements were slow, deliberate, each step echoing in the silence. As he neared, she noticed the details: the thin mustache above his perfectly curved lips, the way his black hair gleamed under the moonlight, receding into a widow’s peak that framed his face like a crown. His nails, long and clean, caught the faint light, gleaming like polished ivory.

“You came,” he said, his voice smooth and deep with an accent she did not recognize, it was resonating in her chest like a melody she couldn’t forget.

“I don’t understand,” Sue said, her voice trembling.

“You don’t need to,” he replied, stopping just in front of her. “You’ve been searching, whether you realize it or not. Searching for what you’ve lost.”

Sue’s breath caught in her throat. “Lost? I... I don’t...”

“Don’t you?” he interrupted gently. His eyes bore into hers, unrelenting yet impossibly soft. “A man who sees only his work, a home that feels empty even when it is full... You give everything, yet receive so little in return.”

Her chest tightened. She wanted to protest, to deny his words, but they struck too close to the truth.

“It’s not your fault,” he continued, his tone soothing. “You’ve been patient. Too patient. But even the strongest hearts have limits.”

He lifted a hand, his long fingers brushing her cheek. His touch was cool, sending a shiver down her spine, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was like the first breeze after a stifling summer day.

“You deserve more, Susan,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You deserve to be seen. To be cherished.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came. She felt as though she were drowning, not in fear but in longing. His words wrapped around her like velvet, soft and suffocating.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I... I can’t...”

His lips curved into a faint smile, one that sent a warmth flooding through her chest. “You already have,” he said simply.

Behind him, the ocean surged higher, the waves nearly touching the windows. The mirrors around them showed distorted visions: his lips at her neck, her hands gripping his cloak, her body arching in a way that made her blush.

“No,” she said again, more firmly this time.

But even as she spoke, her body betrayed her, leaning into his touch. His face neared hers, his lips hovering just above hers, close enough that she could feel his breath. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she surrendered to the moment—

And then she woke.

Sue bolted upright in bed, her chest heaving as though she had run a marathon. The room was dark, the faint glow of city lights filtering through the curtains. She pressed a trembling hand to her face, her skin still tingling where his fingers had brushed.

Beside her, Reed stirred but didn’t wake. His arm was draped over his chest, his head turned away from her.

The dream lingered in her mind, vivid and unshakable. She could still feel the softness of the velvet, smell the roses, hear the crash of the waves. Most of all, she could still see his eyes, glowing like embers in the dark.

She turned to look at Reed, guilt coiling in her stomach. She loved him—didn’t she? But he had been so distant, so consumed by his work. They hadn’t touched in weeks, hadn’t shared a real conversation in months.

Sliding out of bed, she padded to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. The cold did little to clear her mind. When she looked in the mirror, her reflection seemed normal, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. Her lips seemed fuller, her eyes brighter, as though she had been kissed awake.

She pressed her fingers to her mouth, remembering the man’s touch, his voice.

“You deserve more.”

The words echoed in her mind as she returned to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. Reed murmured something in his sleep, a string of scientific terms she didn’t understand.

She turned her back to him, staring at the ceiling. The room felt colder than it should have, yet deep inside, she burned.