Note: If you haven't read REM yet, I highly recommend reading it before starting this story. There's a lot of background information needed in order to understand this story.
Warning: The first two chapters are a bit NSFW. My apologies. 🙈
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We're alive and well, living the life I've always wanted in the house with green tiles.
Clara is alive. The weight of those words began to sink in and I just sat there in utter disbelief at the turn of events. I've literally just come to terms with her death and now this! My mind tried to figure out how I felt. Don't get me wrong—I'm relieved they're alive and well but there was something else.
I felt cheated, lied to, blindsided but none of those words felt right. Clara told me the truth but I didn't read it like I was supposed to years ago. I've got no one to blame but myself.
It wasn't entirely my fault though. The contents of her letters were heavy. There are places in the soul that the light never reaches, best kept to oneself, yet she's managed to put her pain and sorrow into words for me to read. It was her way of coping and I read her letters because there was no one else who'd understand and no one else who'd listen. But then the weight became too much for me and I stopped myself from reading it. Sometimes it's best not to know because the truth can be a lot worse. This was a mess—that's what it was.
Florence's eyes studied my face carefully. My words didn't match my facial expression and I just sat there quiet as a mouse wondering if I should tell her. Not now. Not when we're both about to go to bed as I know we won't be able to sleep and I can't do that to her.
"I was just cleaning up," I said quickly, placing the letter back and getting up. I opened the top drawer of my nightstand and put the box in. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get ready for bed."
I grabbed a change of clothes and made my way towards the bathroom. When I got there, I looked at myself in the mirror. I was knackered from my first day back so I turned the faucet on and splashed water on my face. While patting my face dry with a towel, I couldn't help but groan. It seems like things are never-ending with Clara. Will I ever move on?
My mind went back to the figure in the window. She was right there. She saw me and didn't do anything. But to be fair, she must've been shocked to see me. Clara never told me her address and she was careful not to give her location away. It was by chance that Roman recognized the place that I could even find her home in the first place.
It's been 8 years since I last saw her. I remember stopping by for the last time to say goodbye. She was sad, small, and delicate but she was a lot stronger than she looked; she refused to cry in front of me. She was wearing a blue dress with red lipstick. Red lipstick was her favorite thing to wear and it was mine as well because I couldn't resist those lips. Fuck, I need to stop.
The feelings and memories were coming back and I tried to keep them at bay. Even though we were together a short time, it felt longer than that because we were friends for most of it. The countless hours I spent teaching her how to drive and how we were there for each other's important moments in life. Like when she got her first job in the UK, when she got her driver's license, and when we got intimate for the first time. All those memories stayed with me.
And I wondered if it was the same for her when she saw me. Did all those memories come back? I was no longer the scrawny student barely staying afloat in his classes. I remember being stressed to the point I didn't take care of myself. Even my mum was concerned when she saw how skinny I'd gotten. I'd like to think I'm different now. Hopefully I've grown as a person, though I'm not sure I'm any wiser.
I finished getting ready for bed and made my way back to my room, putting my clothes in the hamper. Florence smiled when she saw me approaching. Even without makeup on, she was radiant. I crawled into bed and kissed her on the lips. When I pulled away, I was surprised she brought my face back for more kisses. Her hand trailed down my face and came to rest atop my chest, her fingers grasping the fabric of my shirt.
There was no doubt she was horny. She was running hot and I could see the color on her cheeks. I felt horrible for not being in the mood having just read the letter so I placed my hand over hers and gently removed her hand from my chest.
"I'm so sorry love but I'm knackered," I said in a low voice. She was disappointed but quickly hid it. "I love you, I really do but I don't have the energy for it today and I want our first time to be special. Do you want some help?" Florence blushed at the offer and hid her face.
"I'll be fine. Thank you." She pulled the blanket over her and turned towards the window.
It felt strange not being the one initiating sex but I was relieved it didn't always have to be me. I've never dated someone who was confident and comfortable with their body. She's quite honest about her sex life. Even before we dated, she's talked about it and I didn't want to dwell on it for too long because it made me wonder if I'd live up to her expectations.
"Good night, Florence," I said softly.
She didn't respond.
-
Florence's alarm went off and she woke up with a start, causing me to wake up as well. In her rush to turn off the alarm, she managed to knock her phone off the table and cursed, throwing her blanket over me. It was clear she didn't want to disturb me but her actions did quite the opposite which I found amusing. I removed her blanket from my body and her eyes widened in horror.
"So much for not waking you up," she groaned. "Sorry."
She disconnected her phone from the charger and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. I just laid there staring at the ceiling and then I turned towards the window. The bed was still warm where she was moments before and I could smell a trace of the perfume she always wore. It brought me back to when we first slept together in the same bed. We were both nervous being close to each other but soon realized how comforting it was to have someone by your side.
My mind went back to the letter and last night and I sighed, wondering how I'd tell her the news. I've got all day to think about it but then I remembered it was Tuesday and I wondered if Florence would continue her sessions. As if on cue, the door opened and Florence made her way back to tidy up her side of the bed.
"Florence, just leave it. I'll take care of it when I get up," I laughed. Her morning priorities were different from mine. Even if she's running late, she'll find time to make the bed. She kept on folding and I tugged the blanket from her hands. "Stop it. Go get ready for work! By the way, are you coming for your session today?"
"Do you want me to stop by?" she asked. We'd just come back days ago and Florence was already busy with work but I'm even more swamped. Bondy and Larry took care of the bare minimum and left me with the rest. Florence's work is different. She's got several people who can take over her work while she's gone and we don't have that luxury.
"Of course," I replied. I didn't want to admit it but I was feeling needy. We've spent the last two weeks together and only seeing her for a few hours yesterday was strange to me.
"Aren't you busy though?"
She was making excuses when she'd usually agree right away. I already told her Bondy and Larry know we're together so things shouldn't be awkward but then I wondered if it had something to do with last night and me turning her down.
"Are you worried?" I asked.
"Worried about what?"
"What you'd dream about?"
"What about it?"
She really had no idea what I was going on about and I didn't want to say it outright but had no choice.
"Are you worried you'd have a sex dream?" I asked and then cringed. Florence's eyes widened in shock. It was obvious it didn't cross her mind and I might've unlocked a new fear in her.
"No!" she quickly shouted. "Has that happened before? Have you sat in on a sex dream?"
"No!" I quickly replied.
If that ever happened, I'll never look at them the same anymore but sex dreams are a thing, more common in puberty, though that's not to say it can't happen when you're an adult. I remember a few years back when the topic of sex dreams came up at work and we spent hours sharing our stories.
Larry was horrified he dreamt that he had sex with a coworker from his previous job. He was deeply bothered by it saying he didn't see her that way but then Bondy explained to him that it didn't quite mean he was attracted to her but that she had a quality or trait that his subconscious liked. Larry felt a lot better having heard that.
"Have you ever had a sex dream?" Florence asked with a teasing smile. She was in no rush to go to work at all. I furrowed my eyebrows trying to remember if I ever had one. I never really remember my dreams—only the ones that stand out emotionally.
"Maybe a few times as a teenager but not recently," I answered. Back then, I was a horny teenager but I've since calmed down when I went to uni and got a job. Turns out stress is quite effective in lowering sex drive—that and getting older. "What about you?" I couldn't help but add.
"Same," she replied. "What were you thinking then? That I'd have a sex dream about you?" The teasing tone she was using was fucking hot and I couldn't help but get turned on.
"You were a bit horny last night," I recalled, being a total jerk.
"That's right," she said, sitting up on the table she was leant against. "Remember when you asked if I needed help? Well I could use it right now."
.
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Hello, thanks for reading! I've had several people ask if there will be a sequel. What happens next? Will Van reach out to Clara? I've decided to write what happens next by picking up right where we left off.
Please vote and comment! Let me know what you think! I will update this story on Tuesdays and Fridays unless otherwise noted.
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Created: 7 November 2022
Posted: 28 February 2023