He Sees You When You're Sleeping

by Emily Antoinette

There’s no version of me that exists where this woman doesn’t consume every fiber of my being.

My purpose for being here tangles with the way she’s looking at me and the heat inside me that nearly drowns out the compulsion to destroy her. It mingles until it’s all a muddied blur, and I can’t think. Until it feels like the only thing that will save me is pressing my lips to hers.

Why did she let me hope that tonight would be different? Why did she give me a taste of something new only to make me hurt her again?

“Who are you?” she whispers with her fading breath, fingers catching on the edge of my mask in a futile effort to tear it away before going limp in my hold. I release a shaky exhale, my actions yet another scar turning me into a creature I don’t recognize. “Your nightmare.”

I pull back immediately, her whimper of frustration calling to the cruelty she’s imbued me with.

It’s amazing how a good orgasm can change your outlook on life.

I still have no clue why Henry has decided I’m not a threat, but I have to admit it’s a relief to be around a being who doesn’t look at me with horror.

“Humans don’t understand a lot of things. That doesn’t make me any less real.”

I don’t care anymore if that means I’ll be a monster, as long as it means I’m hers.

I embrace what I’ve become with open arms, no longer afraid of what I am.

It’s supposed to be a threat, but it sounds like perfection to me.

“Take it. You want it so bad, then fucking take it.”

When nightmare beings are real and can come into your house and bake you cookies at night, how is there any hope for a solid grasp on reality?

That one stupid tear is every bad thing that has happened that I can't deal with.

And now, this impossible monster of a man is shirtless in my kitchen poring over my favorite recipe book just because he “thought I might be hungry” and I once had a dream about pizza.

Seth throws his head back, laughing, and it feels like I’ve come home.

I’ve lived millions of lives with him, but none of them have ever been real. None of his laughs have ever been real. Until now.

What would’ve happened if she’d had people that stayed by her side even when she was at her darkest moment?

I’ll beg him for the rest of my life if he likes it.

The room spins around me, but it’s centered on him

he stands confidently, but his voice breaks a little, a hint of vulnerability that feels like a gift.