The Dream

When I had been sick, I had been looking for a comfort film that would make me feel better. I had then turned to the Harry Potter films where with magic, anything could happen. I really enjoyed the tricks that could be done with the magic wand. And that night, I dreamed of it, not of Harry but of his magic wand. Dave was the one holding it though. He was dressed in a pale blue turtleneck pullover and his usual jeans. He had worn his glasses, but this time they were not rimless, but had a thin black frame. He had in his right hand, a magic wand from whose end sparks were lying. He seemed to be surrounded by a kind a hazy mist.

In the dream he used his magical powers to appear in my bedroom. As soon as he appeared I got up from my med and walked towards him.

'I have always known that you were a kind of wizard. Otherwise how could you have such an effect on me?'

He just smiled at this and waved the wand in a circular motion, and a gentle breeze started blowing making my nightdress rustle around my knees. I took one more step towards him and it was as if I was walking on cotton. Reaching my right hand, I gently caressed his cheeks where some stubble had already grown. The rough abrasive texture made my fingers tingle and I cupped his other cheek with my free hand. With his left hand he reached around my waist and pulled me closer until we were standing so close to each other that our breaths were mingling. Gradually, I lifted my face to him and he started bending his face to mine. There were only 2 two millimetres left for our lips to join when I suddenly sneezed and I was jolted back to reality.

I rubbed my hands over my eyes and groaned. I looked around me to make sure that it had only been a dream. It had been so realist that my lips were tingling from what would have been the kiss I was thirsting for. Ever since I had reached home, it was the only thing I could think of.

I couldn't resist touching my lips with my fingers and closing my eyes. I wished that it were Dave's lips instead. I couldn't wait to be kissed again. Now that I had a taste of heaven, how could I resist?

I had sent only one message to Dave.

'Loved the song and the kiss. Good night.'

His reply was even shorter and left me frustrated.

'Same here. Good night.'

How would I look at him next time? Would I be able to look calm and collected when just thinking about him made me shy?

I then went back to sleep in the hope that he would come again to visit my dreams.