The Cate Blanchett Case {Cate Blanchett}

20~The Dream

"Why do you deny yourself, Thalia?"

The question was simple, it required a basic answer, as most questions would. At the same time, however, it wasn't all that simple.

Aspects of it confused me. Why did I deny myself? Deny myself of what exactly?

Then, like fog clearing, I opened my eyes.

Cate was sat next to me me, we were sat a familiar table. It was then I realised we were in the Obsidian Plate once again.

But something about it was different, a thick fog-like haze seemed to settle like a blanket just above our heads.

It made everything appear intimate and passionate, almost euphoric in that calm and dream-like sense.

Was this a dream?

Everything felt so real, though.

Especially Cate's hand, it lazily drew patterns on my thigh. I was wearing a short dress, a red dress, something I'd never wear unless Amy threatened me to.

Every so often Cate's hand would disappear under the hem of that short, red dress and I'd feel her explore parts of me that were private and personal.

She was welcomed though, for some reason I didn't say anything. I just sat there, my head resting against the chair and my hands gripping the tablecloth.

It felt like the most intense emotion I'd ever feel, the euphoria I'd mentioned before heightened. I wanted nothing more than to feel Cate touch me, pleasure me like I'd never been pleasured before.

And it wasn't just pleasure, it was something deep, something more carnal and more intimate. Something biting and scratching to the surface, desperate to escape the confines of something inside of me.

~

"Thalia!" I could still feel Cate's hands on me, but not where they'd last been in that dream. Instead her hands clutched at my shoulders, shaking me gently as if she was afraid she'd hurt me.

The feeling of euphoria hadn't quite ran it's course, it still flowed adamantly through my body like blood in my veins. 

"Thalia!" 

Suddenly, reality came crashing back down and I realised what exactly had just happened to me.

 Shit, shit, shit, shitting shit.

Abruptly, my eyes opened and I was met with Cate's own eyes directly above me. Those gorgeous cerulean eyes, looking into my eyes with some sort of deep emotion. I loved those eyes.

I looked down at where I was, in a bed, underneath Cate who was straddling me. God no, please don't say I'd slept with Cate, I racked my brains trying to pick puzzle pieces out of the mess that was my brain.

Cate had slid her hand off of my shoulders, one of her hands pushed my sweaty and frizzy hair from my face. The other stroked up and down my arm, a sweet caress that didn't help my case at all. The case being I still felt the effects of whatever the hell that lewd dream had been, that so sinful and unattainable dream I'd had.

"Are you alright, darling?" She asked gently, her voice introducing the familiar pressing feeling of a headache. I shouldn't have drank so much last night, I didn't even intend to.

"Cate," I groaned and then lifted my heavy arms to her waist, just so I could move her from me. She looked down at my hands, her eyes widening slightly and her breathing becoming heavier, before she realised what I wanted and rushed to get off of me.

Instead of sitting on top of me she lay beside me, "you were dreaming, sweetheart, quite intensely might I add," she chuckled slightly, rapidly recovering from her reaction to me touching her moments ago.

I think that was one of the first times in years where I had blushed so frivolously, it shocked me so much I lifted a hand to my face to feel the warmth of my cheeks. Cate noticed but didn't say anything, which I was extremely grateful for.

I looked back down at our position, Cate had propped herself up on the headboard, one of her hands still stroking my hair. I was half under the covers, still in my clothes from last night, okay at least I knew we didn't have sex.

"You had quite a grip on me as well and you also were whispering my name," Cate said softly, moving closer to me, almost gluing herself to my side. "Do you want to tell me what that was all about, sweetheart?" 

Under no circumstances was I going to tell her anything about my dream, she wasn't an idiot she probably already knew, why was she asking me?

Cate's P.O.V

I definitely already knew. 

Something about hearing her say it elicited some sort of excitement within me. She'd been holding me when I woke up, her arms wrapped tightly around me, one of her hands slowly rubbed a part of my stomach.

She'd had her lips pressed against my back and she'd been saying my name, like a mantra, like a prayer, over and over again. I heard her pant a few times as well, at first I'd thought it was a bad dream but then she'd let out a little high pitched whine I soon realised was her moaning.

God, it drove me insane. I felt perverted laying there, trying to stifle my heavy breathing, just to hear her moan my name in her sleep. It sent me into highs I didn't think were real, how could one person be tailored so perfectly to fit someone else?

In my eyes she was everything I wanted and more and it led me to make a swift decision that I knew I wouldn't regret and that was to first tell her everything about what had happened in my marriage. Secondly, I would then tell her everything that I felt and then she'd be free to make the choice to reciprocate those feelings or leave with everything she needed on my story.

I could only hope that she'd been feeling a fraction of what I'd been feeling for her later. In a way, I believed that we were both healing one another.

Before I'd met her I'd done nothing more than sit at home and cry, waiting for the media to find out about this whole debacle and then watching as my career evaporated right in front of me. Then she'd come into my life, closed off and strictly professional, not willing to move from those boundaries but she'd given me hope. So I'd encouraged that less than professional behaviour and over time I started to heal.

I could see in her eyes that she struggled with her emotions, I didn't know why, but she seemed to struggle expressing and actually feeling anything. Like myself I watched as she slowly became more expressive around me, even if it was just slightly.

I had hope. I also had a lot of doubts. Hopefully this would go well.

"I don't remember, Cate," she whispered, the blush on her cheeks told me differently but I dropped it. Wary, she'd revert to the cold exterior she'd seemed to have forgotten to put up today.

"That's okay, darling, how about some breakfast?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from her to look at the digital clock on the bedside table, this whole situation would have been so much better if we'd slept in my room. The thought of her in my bed produced a lot of thoughts, none of them exactly professional.

"I'm so sorry about last night," she said softly, she must have an awful headache from last night. I wanted nothing more than to let her lay in bed while I tended to her and her awful hangover, it reminded me of the day we went out to eat and she seemed to have been quite out of it, like now.

"Don't apologise, Thalia, it's quite alright. Now I'll make breakfast and get you something for that headache you'll probably be sporting," I told her softly and then it was like something had possessed me. 

I leaned over to her and placed a light kiss on her hot forehead, running a hand through her hair one last time before getting up as if nothing had happened. 

I heard her gasp lightly as I left the room, I had to be more careful, if I showed too much affection she'd shy away from it. 

God, get it together Catherine.