GlassySurface

I don't know what I'm trying to accomplish...

It's not like he likes me, so why do I keep writing little
fantasy stories about him.....

Night came, as it always did. The slow creeping of shadow
over light creating the illusion that the sun was running
away, leaving the world behind. It seemed ordinary, yet
magical. A miracle of sorts, Taylor always marvelled at how
the darkness could always chase away the light. It was
late, and Taylor yawned, laying his head down on his soft
pillow. He pulled the blanket over his half naked body and
closed his eyes. Sleep didn't come quickly, but it came.
Sleep always came.

Taylor slept, unsuspecting of what was happening all around
him. The gentle breeze outside picked up suddenly and blew
his window open. Taylor rolled over and slept some more.
She came. She floated through the open window as she had
done for the past few nights. Her long black cloak billowed
behind her, and her long dark hair spread out, creating a
curtain of black. Her feet touched the ground next to his
bed. She smiled, a cool sliver in the pale of her face. She
rarely smiled anymore, except when she was with him.

She reached down, slowly, as if the very air around his bed
was restricting her movement. Her hand touched Taylor's
forehead. The cool sensation of the touch sent a slight
shiver through Taylor's body. Still, he did not wake. His
eyes fluttered, and soon she was inside him. Inside his
head, inside his dreams. This was the part she loved best.

Taylor stood on top a pillar of light. It radiated and made
him look even more amazing than he already did. He wore a
long black coat, black pants and a white shirt. His long
hair hung loose upon his shoulders. He smilied, sweetly and
seductively. His eyes lit upon her and he descended to the
floor.

She reached out, and took his hand. He pulled her forwards,
and closer to him. He reached up, and untied the strings
holding the cloak around her. As it fell to the floor he
ran his hand over her bare shoulders and down the velvet
arms of her blood red dress. She sighed. It sounded like a
million different voices at once. She closed her eyes, and
tilted her head back. He ran his fingers through her raven
hair and she opened her eyes, revealing the true depth of
her soul.

He beckoned for her to come to the pillar of light. She
moved, without ever really leaving the spot she was
standing in. The light began to grow, and soon, it covered
the whole area in a misty white haze. The floor was covered
with rose petals, as red as her dress, and as her lips. He
put his arms around her, and they began to dance.

It was a slow dance. The rhythm seemed something close to a
waltz. It seemed so medieval, so ancient, yet so achingly
familiar to her. She could feel his breath hot against her
face, and she longed for him. She longed to be released of
her confinement to the dark. He moved his hands up and down
her back and she felt the tears well up in her eyes.

The music, if there had been any real music, ended. They
broke apart, and Taylor moved towards a now visable bench.
The room now changed to a moonlit garden. Enclosing the
bench on either side were black roses, deep as the night
yet much more stunning than the night could ever be. The
stars overhead sparkled a deep violet. The whole magestic
scene was so ideal, so perfect. She followed him, her hair
trailing behind, a dark slash in the white background.

He sat on the bench, and motioned for her to do the same.
She did. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the
eyes, for the tears were coming, and she knew it. He took
her hand, and placed it on the cool stone of the bench. She
bit her lip, and still would not look up. He pouted. It
seemed so naive, so childish of him, yet it was so
absolutely adorable. He put two fingers under her chin and
slowly raised her head. She gazed deep into his eyes, and
he could see the tears.

They started to fall. One by one, the crimson tears
splashed on the bench, on the ground. For each tear that
fell, a black rose sprouted in its place. They would not
stop coming, and soon the entire garden was a tangled mass
of black roses. He would still not let go of her hand. She
wept, for him, for herself, and for the chance they never
had to be together in anything other than dreams. His hand
was always there, holding hers, firm and reassuring. She
hated herself, for the creature she was, yet, she loved him
so much more.

She began to burn. She knew what was coming. Suddenly, as
if it had all been just a sheet of paper someone was
ripping, she was torn from the dream and back into reality.
The sun was rising. She spent all her time in his head, in
his personal thoughts. It was only fair, as she spent all
her days dreaming about him. As quietly as she had come,
she retreated, back into the darkness, back into her
solitude.

Taylor slowly opened his eyes, yawned, and stretched. He
felt strange, recalling fragments of the nights dream. He
shook his head, collected his thoughts and got out of bed.
In the back of his mind, she was there, she always would
be. He smiled to himself, remembering the girl who had wept
for him, who had loved him in every dream, and who always
would.