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Love of the Damned - Chapter Six

Chapter Six of 'Love of the Damned'. They are more than dreams to her now. They became Memories. And yet, what secrets could be unlocked? Will the memories tell her the whole story?
Chapter Six: Dreams are Reality

Anastasia turned over in her bed, blinking slightly at the moonlight spilling into the glass doors of her balcony.
She couldn't sleep. Or… perhaps, she didn't WANT to sleep.
She didn't want to see HIM in her dreams again. She had almost forgotten him, after her encounter with Alexander, but now she could match the new guy's face with the one in her dreams. They are one and the same.

The realization was so terrible, yet so beautifully romantic. It scared her. It made everything seem so terrible. And unrealistic. But she knew Alexander would never speak to her like he had in her dreams. The reason she dreamed about him BEFORE she met him, she told herself, was just a sense of deja vu. Somehow she dreamed up some fantasy guy who was in love with her, and it's just stupid coincidence that Alexander looked like him. There was no way she would ever see Alexander again. So if she was smart, she would forget guys for a while, fantasy or reality, and just dream about something else. But she could feel the dreams at the back of her mind. Also with Alexander's bitter and angry face. God, how could she ever forget how betrayed he looked. But how could he look like that when he had only met her for like, five minutes? Unless… she had seen him before.

She sat up in bed, and ran a hand through her hair. She remembered what Dorothea told her this morning. And to be honest, she was scared. She was so scared of something that… that wasn't even real. So being the coward she was, she escaped back home, under the covers where she could think clearly without anyone noticing.
She was so scared of being in love with something that wasn't real.
And yet… and yet, Alexander had drawn her to him. His dark green eyes… so sad… so full of meaning, as if he went through pain no one knew existed. Her heart felt wrenched up into a bloody mess when she imagined his pain. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him…
'To tell him what? That I can take away his pain? With what? With a pat on the back or-'
She buried her head in the pillow and closed her eyes, drawing the covers over her head. Before she knew it, a dream had pulled her under.

This time there was no more mist. In fact, the setting couldn't be more different. She was in a garden full of black and white roses, and she was wearing a white muslin dress, holding a fully-grown white rose in both her hands.
She held it up into the glorious sunlight, admiring how the water beads reflected out the lovely white rose. A smile crept into her face, as she felt how the sun glazed warmly onto her face. She forgot about everything, excerpt how happy she was.
Then hands clasped onto her shoulders, and someone burrowed his face into her collarbone.
"Anastasia."
She felt her smile grew wider on her face, and she reached her hand backward to cup the back of his head.
"Hello, Alexander."
The movement on her collarbone paused, then lips began pressing kisses up her neck.
"Are you going to the dinner party tonight?"
Anastasia clasped her hands over the rose and blew on it softly. "Maybe. Maybe not. You know I never liked parties."

He chuckled, and his lips moved to her forehead. "Not even for me?'"
She breathed deeply, and let the rose fall into many roses in the bushes. "It's not like you ever show up in ANY parties. Remember the birthday party at the Helsings? You never even knew about it before I told you."

It was only this moment Anastasia realized she was not in a dream anymore. She was in a MEMORY.
Something that had happened God knows now long ago. She found Alexander staring at her with his emerald eyes, and noted how happy and carefree they looked. She smiled in spite of herself.
"It's not that I don't like parties, Miss Anastasia." He said, with a respectful air. He slipped her hand into his own. "They are just so unendurable without you."
She blushed, but still wondered where this… memory or story would lead her. But here was Alexander, smiling at her, FLIRTING with her, and she didn't even have to think about what to say. History had written down the script for her. She just had to flow along.
She found herself raising their entwined hands up to her lips, and pressed a soft kiss of the back of it.
"I would much rather stay here… Alex." She whispered, gazing at him through her eyelashes. "You go on without me."

His hands flowed through her hair, and then his arms were around her, resting her head on his shoulder. Even though a dream, she felt so happy that Alexander was touching her. TOUCHING her. Something he would never do in the Alexander NOW.
"Leaving you alone? While your own family is holding a party? Not a chance, Anastasia." He whispered. "If I am going to have fun, it would be with you."
She gave him a small, playful push.
"Oh, don't be absurd, Alex." She took a step backward. "All of my friends are coming to the party. You won't feel so guilty if you choose a girl we both know to pass the time, won't you?"
His eyes darkened, but he pulled her closer.

"Would it be too late… if I INVITE you to your OWN PARTY?" He whispered into her ear.
"I don't think-"
His lips came upon hers before she could finish. And then she was swooped into his arms.
Her feet left the ground.
Enormous snow-white wings spread out from his back, and then she was in midair, the wind blowing her hair back, and her heart swelled. Pinkish-gold tainted the edges of his wings. They flapped powerfully around her, and aside from all that, she was still kissing Alexander. His lips touched hers once, twice, and then moved down the line of her neck, pressing small kisses along the way. He held her as closely as possible, dipping her low, and kissed her as if nothing else mattered… except her.

She slid her arms around his neck, and began returning the kiss, kissing the Roman nose, the high cheekbones, and at last… his sensuous lips. Her eyes closed at the touch his lips upon hers. She felt so wonderful… so gloriously happy… so…
So deeply in love.
Alexander LOVED her.
Or at least, in this Memory.
"So…" Alex smiled down at her, so beautifully it almost made her cry. "Is this invitation enough?"
Darkness began to bloom in front of her eyes, and she knew it was time to leave this impossible dream, this glorious memory that had stored in the back of her mind all along.
A tear slid down her cheek, as the darkness overcame the white wings around her.
"Yes." She whispered. "Yes."
Her eyes opened, and she was back in her bed.
Someone was in the bed with her, someone was holding her close to his chest.
She rolled over and her lips almost touched her roommate's. Although she couldn't think of why, Louis was in bed with her.
Bouquets and Brickbats