Part 1120 – Aftermath To A Dream

Ambrose’s day exhaustion broke through his worries and fears.

He sighed into his pillow and relaxed.

Sleep took him by the hand and started to steal him away.

His bedroom door banged open.

He winced and tried to stay focused on falling asleep.

Robin’s tangerine scent sliced through the layers of Ambrose’s blanket and pillow and stung his nose.

Ambrose growled.

But Robin either didn’t hear it or he just didn’t care. He came over to his side of the bed and poked him. “Hey.”

Another poke.

“I had a bad, stupid dream.”

Another poke.

“Can I sleep next to you?”

Another poke.

Ambrose raised his head. “You poke me one more time, I will break your fingers off.”

“Yeah, whate’er. Can I sleep with you or not?”

Ambrose exhaled a heavy, tired breath. “You have your own bed.”

“Duh. I just…” He paused. “I don’t wanna be alone, Ambrose.”

Ambrose sighed. “Fine. Too tired to really care. Just don’t do anything…” He wilted back down to his pillow.

He was only vaguely aware of Robin lying down next to him.

Sleep claimed him.

***

Robin curled up behind Ambrose and laid his arm across the other vampire’s back.

He frowned.

It’s like cuddlin’ up to a laundry mound.

He ducked under the blankets and snugged up to Ambrose.

Much better.

Robin admired his fellow vampire’s messy black hair, his long, powerful arms, his well-shaped body.

I’d be in big trouble right about now if this was Isellta.

He imagined the fey’s soft blond hair, his long, skinny arms, his narrow-shaped body. Only to discover that imagining such things while lying against a warm body was a very bad idea.

He quickly rolled onto his back and uncovered his head.

Darn fey.

He thought about his dream.

Stupid.

Isellta ain’t like that.

I know he ain’t.

But what if he does have a long line of conquests?  What if I ain’t nothin’ but one more on his list?

No.

I’m a whole lot more than that.

And so is he.

He ain’t a whorin’ man slut.

I know him.

I know he ain’t like that.

The way he looked at me.

The way he talked to me on the phone.

Just the way he is.

He ain’t playin’ me and that’s a simple fact.

He loves me.

I don’t get how I deserve it. I ain’t never showed him any love.

I ain’t got any right to expect love from him. All I deserve is a sound slap to my face and  nothin’ else.

But my Isellta loves me.

Robin closed his eyes.

Only five more days,

And, come tonight, only four more days.

Four days and I’ll see him again.

My lovely, sweet Isellta.

Only four.

Four.

Four more…

He drifted off to sleep.

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