I wake up. It’s dark.
I’m alone, lying on the blanket.
Did that happen or was it jetlag?
I start to get up, then see him coming.
He approaches with what looks like a rose, hands it to me, helps me up and then kisses me passionately.
I feel something I’ve never felt as he holds me.
When I open my eyes, he’s gone.
Did I dream all that? Please say no!
I return the next night and every night until I leave.
He waits for me.
This is no dream. But what is it?
Torvald, what are you?
Continued from yesterdays Friday Fictioneers. With that in mind I kept this at 99 words.
Part 3 tomorrow