Afterlife: Redemption

10

LANE

I could feel his lips on my skin, my eyes still tightly closed. He was nuzzling into my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nips at the crook, before focusing on the space just below my ear. I hummed in appreciation, tilting my head away to give him better access. I didn't open my eyes, just enjoying the feeling of him against me.

I inhaled deeply, the scent of him intoxicating. I had no idea what kind of shampoo or body wash he used, but whatever it was, I needed to buy it in bulk. It was a gentle, masculine scent that set me fire whenever he was close to me. I focused on his lips, the softness and the skill of them, my hands finding his shoulders.

He lifted from me for a moment, grinning down at me as I opened my eyes. The light in the room was dim, a strange glow coming from somewhere to the side of us. I couldn't tell if it was from the window or the lamp, but I didn't care. I was more interested in the sight of him than I was of the source of the light in the room.

It was such a strange feeling being with him now. Even though it had only been a little over a day, I felt like we had never been apart, and that this was how we had always been. No fighting, no secrets, no oceans apart. We were just like any other couple, comfortable and enamored with each other. It was novel, a feeling I had never had with anyone else before. I had been in love before, or what I thought was love. Now, with him, I knew it hadn't been the real thing. This was the real thing.

He grinned at me, the sexy, lopsided smirk that always drove me insane. At the start, it annoyed me, because I knew whenever he gave me that look, he was making fun of me or teasing me. Later, it was taunting, my focus being on his lips, and the skill they held that I yearned to learn. Now, I knew it was a look he held whenever he was thinking of something particularly dirty, and was going to try and convince me to participate.

This time, he merely smirked at me, before kissing the end of my nose, and then my lips. My eyes closed, a soft sigh leaving me as I molded into him, pulling him into me. I couldn't feel him against me, although I knew he was there. It was a strange feeling, as I knew I could feel him against my hands, but his weight over me was absent.

I kissed him back honestly, pulling him against me harder. I loved the feeling of his body against mine, the way we moved together. I had craved and desired him long before ever getting a taste of him, and now he was like a craving worse than chocolate. But no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to feel him against me. I felt his lips, the way he kissed me, but I couldn't feel his weight.

"Harry," I whispered against his lips. He ignored me, and continued kissing his way across my jaw. When I finally repeated his name, he lifted his head slowly, and my eyes widened in shock and fear.

I was no longer looking at the familiar face of the man I loved. But instead, the blue eyes and blonde hair of a man I had left in London, who my friendship with had parted on rocky terms.

"Neil," I gasped, pushing back from where my hands were on his shoulders. He didn't move, feeling impossibly close to me where in contrast I hadn't been able to get Harry near enough.

He grinned at me, an unnerving look that left me anxious, my mind frantic.

"Where is Harry?" I asked stupidly, trying to move myself out from under him.

"A long way from here," he said, his voice heavy and echoed. Again, he leaned down to press his lips to mine, and immediately I turned my face away.

"No!" I shouted, again pushing at his shoulders. He started kissing along my neck, ignoring my struggles. "Neil, don't!"

I called out, pushing at him, but nothing I did and nothing I said stopped him. I felt trapped, afraid and confused, my legs useless as they felt pinned by something I could not see.

"Neil, stop!" I called out again, giving another shove. "Get off me!"

Closing my eyes tightly, I tried to push back, before another voice caught my attention.

"Lane,"

My stomach tensed, my ears eager for the voice.

"Lane, wake up," it repeated, and I felt a gentle nudge at my shoulder.

My eyes flew open, and I was immediately confused and lost. The blurry scene of this room was now nothing like it had been; no light, no sound, no Neil. I could barely make out the silhouette of Harry next to me, sitting up in the bed, leaning towards me.

"Babe, wake up," he repeated, reaching out to touch my face.

My breathing was ragged, my stomach twisting as I could still feel Neil's lips on mine. I felt a cold chill slide over me, and immediately turned around, flicking on the light at the bedside table behind me. A soft glow came over the room, and as I turned back to Harry, I breathed a sigh of relief that this time, it really was him.

I all but launched myself at him, burying my face in his chest, my arms practically strangling him. He caught me easily, bringing his arms around me as he leaned his cheek on my head. His hands rubbed up and down my bare back, gentle shushing sounds from his lips as he tried to calm me.

After several long moments, I released him, laying back against the pillow. I kept a tight hold on one of his hands, needing to feel him, to make sure he was still here, and that he was real. My eyes drank him in, his tone of his skin, the color of his eyes, his messy, bed tousled hair.

"You okay?" he asked, reaching his free hand out to stroke my cheek. His eyes were concerned, but his voice was tight. It wasn't the tone I expected, and that difference didn't escape my notice.

I nodded, swallowing hard, trying to focus on the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth across my hand.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked, and I felt myself tense.

I couldn't very well explain the nightmare I was just having. I knew Harry was moody, and his temper was difficult to navigate. I had yet to deal with him in any real way in terms of jealousy other than our argument over the phone over Neil months before, but I had little doubt of how he would react if I told him of the setting of my dream. Even more, I knew he would question why I would ever dream something like that.

My answer would have to be one of two; first, he would assume that I had dreamt of Neil because I somehow desired him. Since that was in no way the truth, and something I had already denied and challenged him on prior to my homecoming, it wasn't something I cared to revisit. There had been nothing between Neil and I, and I had made that clear to Harry.

However, the other option in this little dyad, was the fact that the dream could have stemmed from Neil's one time, quickly rejected advance on me the night of Harry and I's argument. Harry had accused Neil of pursuing me, a concept I rejected harshly. We had fought, and I had literally hung up on him. Unfortunately, he turned out to be right, when only moments later, Neil had attempted to kiss me. I denied him, quickly and firmly, but that didn't mean it didn't still bother me.

I knew I couldn't tell Harry that had happened, since he would no doubt lose his shit. And if I mentioned in any way that the dream had featured Neil, his mind would create elaborate scenarios that would probably be even worse than the reality.

So, my only option, was to lie.

"Just of the village," I said, trying to keep my voice even. I was a shit liar, and only hoped that my vulnerable state mixed with Harrys rude and unexpected awakening would make this exchange easier to navigate. "I kept seeing things from that night."

Harrys face tightened, his eyes narrowing. His hand remained gentle on mine, but immediately, I felt unsure. His expression was wary, and I could tell he knew I was lying.

"Really?" he said, his voice tight.

I said nothing. I didn't nod, I didn't respond. My eyes remained on his, and I waited. He tilted his head in an inquisitive and almost taunting manner, his jaw tense.

"So, why you were shouting out for Neil to get off you, if you were in the village?"