This time, the dream is set in the time after. When I was out of surgery and awake. I was weighed down. Drugged and sedated. A heavy weight crushing me. My chest was on fire, my sternum ripped open and sewn back together. My heartbeat was glaringly obvious to me. Strong and loud. Louder than the beeps and the hums I was used to. Steady and certain. A new drum that beat to its own rhythm.
My ribs ached when I inhaled, but breathing was easy. My heart was heavy and light at the same time. Bruised and so swollen that my rib cage could barely contain it.
Mine but not mine.
A big heart. Tight and uncomfortable. Too big for my chest.
I sit up in the dark, still groggy, and reach for the glass of water on my nightstand. The glass is cold and solid in my hand. Real. I take a sip of water and swallow. The cool liquid soothes me, trickling down my throat and gradually easing me out of the dream world and into reality.
It’s over.
It’s done. I’m here, and I’m fine.
Lennon comes stumbling out of his room at around nine. He looks like hell. His version of it, anyway. Believe me, his versionof looking like hell is far from hellish. His hair is disheveled, standing up at the back, and his eyes are bleary. Blue chalk that’s been smudged over a wet surface. There’s a slight hint of bewilderment in the whites of his eyes when he sees me. Almost as though he wasn’t expecting me to be here. Or, he wasn’t expecting himself to be here.
“You good, bud?” I check.
“Yes,” he says quickly and with just enough force to sound defensive.
Strange.
Last night was strange too. At times, he was easy to be with, and I thought he might be showing signs of thawing, but at others, he was even more intense than he was the day we met.
There was so much emotion coming off him, I couldn’t place half of it.
I admit I cocked dinner up badly. That shit was inedible, and that probably didn’t help things, but I don’t think that was the problem. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it. It was almost as though he was pleased I’d failed at something.
I thought we’d chill in front of the TV and get to know each other a little better after dinner, but he excused himself suddenly. I don’t know what darkened his mood. Nothing notable happened. He just suddenly seemed out of sorts and fled.
I’d love to say all this gives me pause or makes me wonder if I did the right thing offering him the room, but it doesn’t. Even now, as I watch him crashing around the kitchen making coffee in a bad temper, I feel a sense of certainty so strong it’s almost eerie.
Intuition.
An inner voice.
A heart song with only two words.
It’s him.
When he’s found the mugs and poured his coffee, he takes a sip and eyes me suspiciously over the rim of the mug.
“How long have you been up?” he says. A slight snarl in his words makes it seem more like an accusation than a question.
He’s wearing a black tank and blue sleep pants. The top is snug and the pants slung low on his hips. He looks about as good as anyone has ever looked in the history of mornings.
“Since six twenty-two,” I reply.
“That’s oddly specific.” He doesn’t roll his eyes exactly, but he comes close.
“I wake up early every day to watch the sun rise. It came up at six twenty-eight this morning. I give myself a few minutes to grab a coffee and get up to the roof. The view from up there is amazing.” I’m not sure why, but my morning routine appears to annoy him quite a bit. I don’t mind. It’s the best part of my day, and I’m not apologizing for it. “You’ll have to join me sometime.”
His top lip curls into a scowl. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
I chuckle and pour myself a glass of water. “You’ll be up there with me in no time,” I tell him. “Won’t be long before you’re thanking me for dragging you out there. I’ll give you this weekend off because you’re still settling in, but next weekend, I’ll wake you, and you can check it out with me. How’s that sound?”
He blinks hard twice. “It sounds like hell. That’s what it sounds like.”
I tell him a few more times that he’ll enjoy it, and he assures me he won’t. It’s nice. Casual banter that sets him at ease, whether he knows it or not.
