In My Dreams
By Li Lin

A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face

He caressed the wrinkled surface of the photo gently, tracing the outline of her flawless face. Beautiful. She was his universe. Without her, he was nothing but an empty shell with an empty heart, only air flowing in his veins – no blood, no passion. The photo slipped through his fingers and fluttered gently to the floor. He made no move to pick it up, fingers tightening around the stem of his wine glass. It had been so long, so long. Was it possible for someone to suffer from withdrawal symptoms after missing a person too much? He was certain that the painful cramps assaulting his heart and the impossible craving for her touch and kisses were signs that he was slowly being driven mad. Slowly, he reached over to pick up the fallen photo and brought it close to his body, cradling it against his chest, feeling his heart beat against the paper.

“She’s no good for you,” they had said, their voices earnest. “Leave her before she leaves you.”They had urged, their eyes pleading. “We’re just trying to help you.”

“Lies!” He had snarled in response, pushing past them just so he could return to her side where he allowed himself to drown in her lies and empty promises. He swallowed whatever she said – that she loved him with all her heart; that he was the first man who had ever stepped foot in her apartment and stayed; that he was her everything, and drank in her every action – the way she tossed her head, the dark silken strands falling back in place; the way her fingers pressed down on each ivory piano key to produce the sweetest music that ever graced his ears. He listened even when she told him that she was having her girlfriends over on a Monday night, so could he please stay over at his parents’ house for one night? It was only when he turned back to retrieve his wallet that he heard the thumps and the moans and the bed springs squeaking under the desperately moving hips that spoke of her cruel betrayal.

With his head spinning and his heart hurting with an unexplainable ache, he had let himself collapse onto the couch only to suffer in silence until the creaking ceased and long moans turned into deep breathing. He had thrown the door open to see her bare beautiful body sweaty and shaking, tangled in sheets, and encased in another man’s embrace. Taking a long drink of the deep red liquid from his glass, he remembered the feeling of silent tears trickling down his cheeks, and the way his vocal cords stopped working altogether when that man gave him a triumphant smirk. He remembered how her smoky eyes met his furious, devastated, betrayed ones as she sat up slowly, one hand placed casually on the other man’s biceps, “We’re over.”

The day he walked out, he never saw her again.

The day they broke up, he knew he would never forget her face.

I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight it's only you and me, yeah

He woke up with a start, jolting into a sitting position, his breathing ragged and unsteady. Slowly, he slid back down onto his back, knowing that he had just had one of his regular dreams. Of her. He groaned; the ache in his groin was surely not allowing him anymore sleep until he took care of it. Tossing his covers aside, he found the images of him and her, holding hands, walking along the beach filling his mind - her in her white tank top and pale blue skirt. He had no idea why he found her so breathtakingly beautiful that way.

He slipped one hand down his boxers and gripped it tight.

Her eyes sparkling, curved into the prettiest crescents, her hair flying behind her in the salty sea breeze that whipped at her ankle length skirt. Such a corny, clichéd picture… which took his breath away each time it came to mind.

His hand began to move as he remembered the way she ran her fingers through his own dark hair, her sharp nails digging painfully into his back, painful, oh so gloriously painful, clawing their way down his back, scratching against his tanned skin, her fingers clutching his arms, her wonderful scent when he dipped his head down to bite lightly at her neck to mark her as his, her sharp gasp, the frantic movements, her scream, and her desperate whispers of his name colliding with the hoarse, harsh, rasping sounds from his throat that struggled to form her name.

He exploded in his boxers, falling back against his bed, not even realizing that he had been arching off the surface in sheer desperation for release. He blinked and shook his head slightly, turning to look at the clock. Three in the morning seemed like just the right time for an ice cold bath. He stumbled when he got up, finding his legs weakened. He extracted the wrinkled photo from beneath his pillow and brought it into the bathroom with him.

It was going to be just him and her, until the sun came around.

The miles just keep rollin'
As the people leave their way to say hello
I've heard this life is overrated
But I hope that it gets better as we go

“It’s okay, man,” his brother was saying as he uncapped a bottle of Heineken before offering it to him. He blatantly ignored it. “She’s just a chick. You’ll get over her.”

“And we told you she was no good. You just needed time on your own to figure that out,” his best friend added, slinging a comforting arm around his shoulder. “It’s been two months and she’s flirting with anything that has a dick. She’s moved on, so you should stop moping.”

She’s not just a chick! He wanted to shout at them. And I would stop moping if I actually could.

The first few weeks after they break-up had been torturous. When he called off their engagement, there had been concerned calls day and night, offering sympathy and uttering supposedly comforting words that did nothing but serve to fuel his misery. It took a lot of convincing on his part, but his family and friends finally took his advice and left him to his own devices before he whipped out a chainsaw and committed a massacre. Naturally, he had spent his time alone reminiscing and trying to get over both her betrayal and the fact that he had completely given up his heart and soul to her… And there was no way he was getting them back. He was perfectly content to remain that way but his brother and best friend decided to take on the duty of breaking him out of his shell, adamant on making him join them on their weekly conquests to the seedy nightclubs. Everything went downhill at an alarming rate thereafter.

Idly, he wondered if there was any way his life could get any worse. Love had surreptitiously slipped rose-tinted glasses over his eyes. For twelve months, he had truly believed that there was no other couple more in love than them. He had trusted her when she murmured sugared words of her affection for him, but the day he never got to saw her again, everything changed. The world had seemed like a beautiful place, like nothing would ever rip him apart the way she so brutally did with her affair. Now, it was as though the skies were perpetually gray and tumultuous, looking as if they were about to pour forth rain the way tears had poured from his eyes for days after the incident. Stupid. He was so damn stupid.

He shut his eyes in exhaustion, letting their chatter wash right over him. He wanted them to leave him alone to wallow all he liked in self-pity. He wanted to die, because she was his everything and she was gone, which meant everything that mattered was gone and there was no point in living any longer. But above all, he desperately wanted to see her again, to run his fingers through her hair and plant kisses all over her body and mark it as his. Only his.

He wanted her, fuck it., it's only you and me

I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight girl

He struggled to open the door with her cradled in his arms. Staggering into the apartment and straight to the bedroom, he laid her immobile form onto the bed. Backtracking to the front door, he closed it and hurried back to her side. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes dark against her pale make-up. It had been ridiculously easy to locate her at the club she frequented, dancing against eager male bodies. Anger had swept all his good sense away in a wave – if he could not have her, no one else could. The moment she settled down at the bar wearily, he sent over a drugged drink which she accepted without question. That was her problem – always expecting guys to be at her beck and call, only giving her the finest things in life. She knew she was beautiful, and she exploited that fact.

It wasn’t long before she started to stretch and yawn, setting her head down to drift into a deep sleep. That was when he swooped in to carry her home, to where she belonged – next to him. He brushed a finger down her smooth cheek, smiling slightly when she stirred and became motionless again. He straightened and proceeded to seat her in the wooden chair he had prepared, humming as he wound the silk ties around her limbs and the chair’s legs. She stirred once more and her eyes fluttered open to focus in on the man kneeling before her. She tried to move, only to find that she was immobilized. Her eyes widened and she let loose a wild scream.

“Let me go! Let me go! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He stared at her in fascination. Her eyes were wild as she strained against the tight knots. That was not the girl he knew – the one he loved was sweet and always so composed. Her words were always silky, sending trembles down his spine when she purred them in his ear – never shrill, not like that. She shrieked once more, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. His gaze darkened as he took one step nearer. He bent over until he was at eye level with her.

“Kiss me,” he whispered. “I’ve been dreaming about your kiss since we last met.” He gripped her chin tightly and tilted it towards him. She started sobbing quietly as she fought to turn her face the other way. He held on tighter, hard enough to bruise. He leaned in closer. “Kiss me.”

A tingle shot through his body when her lips brushed his, only to have sharp pain shooting through his lips when she bit down hard. He pushed her back roughly, “Fuck! Bitch, you made me bleed.” He licked his bottom lip tentatively, tasting the coppery blood seeping from his wound. He wanted her back. Not physically, per se, but the girl who had been him for a year. The one who would stroke his hair and whisper sweet nothings into his ear, who would work the knots in his muscles out with her massage skills, running her hands down his muscled back, down his arms…

He gripped her arm and forced her to look at him. Her gaze was defiant, as she opened her lips to scream again. He swallowed any sound she made with a fierce kiss, working his tongue into her mouth past her teeth and sucking on her lips, waiting, praying for some form of response. He half-expected her to bite down on his tongue and render him mute but she did not. Her struggling stopped after a few seconds and her shoulders sagged, surrendering her lips to him. But they were motionless. He pulled away, breathless.

“Why?” He asked weakly. He reached over to grab the glinting razor on his desk. Her eyes widened when he brought it down on her in one sharp slash. Instead of a bloodbath, her satin top fell apart. He ripped it right off, tearing it in half vehemently.

“What… What are you doing?” She choked out, sobs working their way up her throat as she began to cry loudly. Her cries were muffled when he scrunched up the fabric and thrust it into her mouth. With one swift motion, he had her top half naked and shivering. She had her eyes squeezed shut and tears were making their way down her face.

“I just want you again. I dream about you all the time, do you know that?” He murmured, beginning to cut through her denim skirt with a pair of scissors. He noted the goosebumps on her skin and blew hot air on it. Removing the skirt, he kissed her bare thighs. “I dream about us, and the memories, the times we had together.” He began sucking on a patch of her silky skin. “You’re here with me right now, physically, but you’re not here with me the way I want you to be.” Her muffled crying only seemed to grow louder and louder. “Why did you have to leave me broken like that, babe? You were my universe. I loved you so bad. I still do, so bad that I don’t want anybody else to have you. Do you get it?” She nodded frantically, praying that if she went along with whatever he said, he would perhaps let her off. A sad smile played across his lips. “You lie.”

A dark look swept across his face as he stood up, his voice suddenly turning dangerous, no longer wistful, “Did you like it when he touched you?” He ran a hand along the length of her body. Her trembling increased tenfold. “When he fucked you on the bed we used to make love on?” She began shaking her head from side to side, her hair sticking to her face where sweat and tears had made her skin damp. There was the feel of cold metal on her skin and then piercing pain. He was drawing on her skin, that fucking bastard. “I need you.” Another slash of the knife. “I love you.” Another slash. She felt warm liquid running down between her breasts. “Do you love me too? I guess not. You’re not even you anymore.” Yet another cut. This time on her forearm. She winced in pain. “Does it hurt?” He pressed his lips to her arm, hot and wet, and licked at her wound, divulging it of any blood stains. “Does it feel better?” He leaned over to suck on the wound at her collarbone. She tossed her head back, trying to shake him off. He pressed her hips down against the wooden chair. “You used to like it when I do that. Kiss you like that. Not anymore, huh?”

He reached up to remove the now wet top from her mouth. Low gasps escaped her as she struggled to speak, but each time her sobs kept her from saying anything. Gently, he wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks.

“Tonight, girl, it’s only you and me.”

Everything I know and anywhere I go
It gets hard but it won't take away my love
And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done
It gets hard but it won't take away my love, whoa

He untied the knots around her wrists and ankles, freeing her from their constrains. She seemed to melt into the wooden surface, barely any strength left. Shallow cuts and pale bruises from his nips all over her body, a mutilated art piece quite different what it looked like originally. He swept her up in his arms and set her on his bed. She hung from his arms limply, not even bothering to fight back anymore. It was a nightmare. A crazy nightmare. Her eyes sank close and more tears seeped out uncontrollably.

She felt the bed sink when he crawled in next to her. Familiar arms wrapped themselves around her, circling her waist and cushioning her head. Her cuts stung. She felt lips on them once more, licking, kissing, trying to remove the pain he had caused. It was too late. His strong fingers stroked her back idly. She found herself wondering why exactly she had decided to leave this man, who was so good looking he could have been a model, who had been so perfect that he would drive a mile to get her a chocolate cake if she asked, who loved her so much his life revolved around her. But that was the problem, he loved her too much, and he was too perfect. Too damn perfect. Not anymore.

More tears. His gentle hands again, wiping them away.

“I still love you, girl. I really do.” His voice was halting. She remained silent. “It’s so hard but, I can’t stop loving you.”

His voice caught, “I’m going to kill you tonight. And I’m going to kill myself.” She reached upwards weakly to touch his face softly. He was crying. The chest she was lying against began to rise and fall. “I love you.” She inhaled sharply when she felt the knife enter her flesh deep, and pulled out again slowly. Her fingers curled around his hand to show him that… That she understood. She understood him perfectly. Her eyes rolled up to meet his one last time, the sorrow in his eyes so heartbreaking that she could almost forgive him for… Killing… Her… And before it all went black, she distinctly heard him murmuring,

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you….”
And tonight girl, it’s only you and me

I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams

Credits: Here Without You – 3 Doors Down

A/N: I guess I just ruined that romantic song, didn't I? I wanted to look at it from a different perspective but it came out a lot more twisted than what I expected. Nevertheless, it's the first time I've written anything so 'rated'. Reviews, anyone? (: