Stories Based On Taylor Swift Songs

FEARLESS: 29. Untouchable

29. Untouchable (1/11/21)

It was a rough day, one of those days where as soon as you reach home, you know you won't be doing anything else until you go to bed. Chloe followed these rules as she pulled into the driveway and walked into the house. She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, changed into her pajamas, and plopped onto the couch. If she was smart, she could've started working on the PowerPoint that was due next week. But that was a problem for next week, so she switched on the television and watched episodes of The Great British Baking Show until it was time to head to bed.

Her room was down the hall, but Chloe still had to turn on a light because the world outside was pitch black. The sky was sprinkled with stars, and she could see a few from her bedroom window. Once she was in bed, she pulled the covers up to her neck and drifted off to sleep.

Chloe was lost in dreams, some she would remember the next day and others she wouldn't. The first few were forgettable dreams, most of them revolving around the day at work. She missed an assignment in one dream, and in the other, she spilled coffee all over her blouse. The third dream was a bit more terrifying, filled with evil goblins and men trying to kidnap her off the street. Chloe suppressed these thoughts by rolling over in bed. The action only led her to the next dream, which was the one she remembered when she woke up.

She was in an empty room, with black walls and no windows. When she looked down at herself, her feet were bare, but she was wearing a black and white dress. It reminded her of the dress Tracy Turnblad wears at the end of Hairspray. She walked forward, either out of curiosity or some other force was making her move. When she looked up at the end of the room, she saw a figure walking towards her. She didn't recognize him.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked in her dream, cocking her head in confusion. The figure reached her and stood a few feet away. He was tall, with a washed-out face. No, he wasn't pale. His face literally looked washed out, as if someone had grabbed an eraser and wiped all of his features away. It made it difficult for Chloe to identify him.

"Hello, Chloe," the figure replied, holding out a hand for her. She wondered what would happen if she took it.

"How do you know my name?" Chloe asked, glancing up at the man. She wished to see his eyes, his nose, his mouth, but the features never appeared.

"We've met before," the figure whispered. "Don't you remember?"

Chloe didn't remember, but she took the man's hand anyway, in case the action would jog her memory. Instead, the dark room melted away, revealing a beachside escape. The bright blue ocean spanned for miles, and the waves kissed the sand like two abandoned lovers. Chloe looked all around, noticing the dunes on the beach, the palm trees, and the little house sitting on a piece of secluded land. It was a painting.

"Follow me," the figure said, offering his hand again. This time, there was no reluctance, but Chloe feared the location would change again if they held hands. It didn't, and the man led her to the water. The two swam around, splashing and soaking in the sun. When Chloe and the figure washed up on the beach again, he took her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. Similar to the handshake, as soon as his lips touched hers, her eyes shot open, and she was no longer asleep.

"Oh my god!" Chloe squealed, sitting up in bed and holding the comforter close to her chest. "What was that?"

Her day at the beach with the mysterious, unrecognizable figure was the only dream she remembered. She blinked a few times in a row, wondering if what she had just dreamed was real or not. Her skin was clammy, and her nightgown and the sheets stuck to her body like glue.

Chloe wondered if she should grab her phone and look up what the dream meant, but she doubted she would find any answers. Instead, she rolled over in bed and tried to fall asleep again. Her eyes wouldn't stay shut, and all she could think about was the sandy beach, the bright blue ocean, and the feeling of the man's hand in hers.

The next night, after having a much better day, Chloe climbed into bed around ten-thirty and wondered if the mysterious figure would return. Would they return to the beach to finish what they had started last night, or would they visit a different place, one just as romantic and reclusive?

She dozed off quickly, and like the night before, she didn't see the man until the fourth or fifth dream. He was waiting for her in the black room. Last night, she had to wait for him to walk up to her. But tonight, he was standing in the middle of the room, waiting for her.

"Tell me who you are!" Chloe insisted, trying not to get lost in the blue ball gown she was now wearing. It was definitely an upgrade from the black and white dress.

"You know me, Chloe," he replied. If he had a mouth, he would've smiled at her. "We met yesterday, at the beach."

"But I still don't know your name." She was growing more and more frustrated with the fact that she didn't know or recognize the man. Chloe tried to remember the night before, when she and the man had played in the water before kissing on the beach.

Something dawned on her. She glanced back up at the figure. He was still missing facial features. So if he was lacking a mouth, how was he able to kiss her yesterday?

Instead of answering the question, the figure offered his hand again, and they were transported to a private island in Greece. They were driving on a small moped, and Chloe held tight to the man. He stopped driving when they reached a house on the hill. A million little orange trees were planted around the house, drawing the two of them inside.

Chloe followed the man to the house, and before he opened the door, he leaned down and kissed her. Even though she enjoyed the feeling, Chloe couldn't help but feel a sense of dread overcome her. Like the night before, the kiss meant the dream was coming to an end. The figure would give her just enough to keep her coming back for more, but it was never enough for her.

She sat up in bed for the second night in a row. Even though the figure in her dreams insisted they knew each other, Chloe had a feeling they would never see each other in person. He was only meant for her dreams.