Unveiled (MLL)

With each mile that he passed with his car his anger turned from fury to a blinding fire to a pitch black pit of chaos. And yet the pitch black chaos was too small a word as further ahead he went, until there he stood in front of ‘Manerium Somniorum’ The manor of dreams. Standing at the gates his anger dissipated to a form of fear and melancholy. Christian knew it like he knew the back of his hand that these emotions were his. Whatever he was feeling was an aftermath of what the manor was listening in on. The walls were screaming the story that unfolded between their bricks as the windows tried to leap open, over powered by the yearning need for some kind of a void. An escape from what unfolded. The gate of the manor seemed barred from reality. Acutely preoccupied by the nightmare. Participating and escaping every word the manor screamed. Time did not exist beyond these gates. No what was left behind was simply the shadow of broken hearts. With each second that passed Christian watched a darkness descend upon the manor as thick mists of clouds and shadows formed. Untouched was the reality outside the gate but inside Manerium Somniorum dreamed. Dreamed of a heartbroken man. Echoed of an unquenchable thirst. Begged for her return. Pulling every reality into it in its desperation, whispering and moaning Christian or anyone that dared to watch to enter. Enter their dream. Dream their love. And bathe in their despair as a symphony lulled Christian into a heavy sleep. With each ticking minute the manor seemed to draw further and further away, without even realizing his eyes had closed and his body was mesmerized by her. By them. It played out again like a song, starting with a verse. A look. A pair of eyes. A shadow. As translucent darkness shone brightly around a man and interlaced with his soul. And there she stood. It was her form and her face and yet her eyes betrayed who she was. A conscious thought metaphored into her existence, standing right there under the soft glow of his lantern. Christian was the prince and the prince was chaos as their fell in love for the first time. As their skin felt the fleeting graze of her smile and their ears heard the soft whisper of her gown tease the ground. There all three souls stood as one falling in love with the same form and yet a different woman. "We were never meant for tomorrow ..." She said with a trembling voice as her hand reached out for his, so close and yet much like their fates all there was between them were dreams.

taipan · Urban

Zu wenig Bewertungen

74 Chs

Chapter 4

Something had changed today. Christian couldn't tell what it was but something was different. The air held a distinct smell of citrus. Of attraction. Like it was calling to him.

Whispering his name in its darkest fantasies. And suddenly Christian felt the soft wind blow against his face, urging him to smile. Seducing him with the lacy orange in its smell. It was a very distinct feeling. The same feeling he had each time he heard her voice. Christian didn't know who the voice belonged to for he had never seen her.

But in the long nights when Summer's scream plague his dreams Christian heard her.

She whispered his name like she was made for him. Like the chemical nature between them was beyond the logic of the universe. Beyond their very sanities.

Those whispers had started to become stronger, louder even. More desperate. Like she couldn't wait anymore. And there lay Christian's misery. Laced in lust and sadness he found a moment of peace.

Subconsciously, Christian followed the smell. Letting the feeling of warmth flush his skin as he walked leisurely on the path. Christian had walked a short distance from his mansion and found himself standing in front of somebody else's.

He did not know when or how he came here but he knew why he was here. It was because of a voice.

The voice that he now heard echoing from inside the building humming a song. It's like she wanted to tease Christian with her voice. His sweet little siren, serenading to her sailor.

It was madness, Christian knew that. But, in that one moment, he allowed himself to hope that the voice he heard was more than just a fantasy. To hope that this was not a dream. As he edged closer Christian knew he had to see her. She could not see him just yet, but he had to see what the face behind that voice looked like.

Climbing up on a tree opposite to the window that held the sweet voice of the night Christian perched on a branch. Effortlessly leaning back as he lay to watch her.

And there she was his dream. His voice. His insanity.

"All good boys go to heaven but bad boys bring heaven to you… It's automatic and I know it's true they say all good boys go to heaven and bad boys bring heaven to you…"

She stopped faltering for one moment, looking around with her big green eyes. Like she sensed him. Like she knew he was here. Watching her.

She wore a shirt that hung off her shoulders, partially unbuttoned. Her beautiful breasts bouncing as she danced to the soft seductive music while placing little pictures all over one of the walls. She would occasionally bend to pick a picture or two, exposing her nearly naked arse clad in skimpy lace. Almost as if she was teasing Christian. Goading him to reach out to her.

Christian somehow knew that she was. She knew he was watching her. And she wanted him to.

She smiled hugging a pillow and whispered, "Musk"

And Christian knew she was talking about him. Because even in his dreams she always called him musk. Saying smelt like musk and sex all wrapped in one and that the smell always made her think of him.

But, Christian knew this was a dream. What else could it be? Christian saw her face for the first time but he knew she cannot be anything other than a dream. How else was she holding all his insanity and sadness together?

How else did he hear her voice each night floating through the air?

But, Christian was not a man enough right now to want to wake up. He did not want to wake up from this feeling of peace.

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