The House

Chapter 49 - Day 5: Love's Dream

"You cannot possibly be real, David," I tell him, an uncomfortable knot forming in my throat. "You're too perfect. I know I'm lying close to death, curled up in a hypothermic ball in the little room that keeps on disappearing, and my mind is escaping by dreaming of you."

"Are you dreaming this too?" he asks, taking my hands from his chest and lifting them between us to show me my injured fingers.

"Apparently..." I whisper, wondering how bad my situation would have to be for my brain to think dreaming of throbbing fingertips would be a great way to escape from the harshness of reality.

"I'm far from perfect, Luna," David assures me.

"Name one thing about you that's not perfect," I insist, honestly unable to think of even one.

"Well," he thinks about it for a few seconds. "There's the fact that I'm cross-eyed."

"You're not," I scoff, slipping my hand from his to push at his shoulder. "Besides, that would not be a big flaw."

"You didn't say it had to be a big flaw; you just said it had to be an imperfection."

I focus my eyes, looking deeply and objectively into his, startled when he pulls his eyes so that one looks straight at me while the other looks at his nose.

"You're right," I laugh, shrinking away from him. "You're not perfect; you're a dork!"

"Yes, I'm a dork," he chuckles. "I also tend to have the attention span of a guppy, which is why there are so many unfinished tasks in and around this place."

"Oh!" I giggle, surprised to hear that. "I thought you liked variety and were cycling between tasks. I have seen you returning to previous ones."

"I assure you, Luna, there's no system there," he says with an earnest expression that makes me laugh again. "Oh! I leave the toilet seat up all the time," he offers another unforgivable flaw, and I roll my eyes, unimpressed.

"I know how to put it down."

"Well... and this is a really big one," he assures me. "I am a 27-year-old hormonal, somewhat perverted high school boy."

"Excuse me?" Now, I'm just confused.

"From the first second I saw you when you tried to throw some juice at me, and every second after that, I've wanted to kiss you every single time I see your face or hear your voice. There is nothing I want to do more than that," he says in a voice filled with husky earnestness. "Even now, sitting in this kitchen with the storm going nuts outside and the house hanging around full of secrets that are apparently hell-bent on destroying us, all I want to do is hold you in my arms and kiss you until we're both senseless, Lunabelle Emmerson."

"I rather like that flaw, David Sterling," I assure him, feeling breathless due to his confession. I might be a hormonal school girl too, because I can feel unwelcome giggle explosions bubbling up inside me, and they are hard to suppress. "I would love nothing more than to be senseless... on purpose... because you kissed me..."

As I gaze into David's eyes, the fear and anxiety start to fade away, replaced by warmth humming in my heart, lulling me into a dreamy state. I think I'm sleep-deprived at this stage; it must be past midnight. I'm drained, and in the aftermath of the terror from earlier, I'm feeling sleepy, my brain foggy and longing for escape.

I didn't think I would ever feel sleepy again, not with dread gnawing at my intestines, but the sensation has dulled down considerably and sitting here with my hands in David's, gazing into his face, feeling my heart skipping beats as my eyes trace his lovely features, I no longer think that I really was dragged down the stairs by my ankle any more than I'd seen a man being hung from the rafters.