"Don't stop," she muttered, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of his hand. The feel of his fingers gently caressing her cheek was enough to make her emit a content sigh and close her eyes. She could hear his chuckle and only imagined what his smile must look like now, smug, knowing that he was the only one who could make her feel this way...so at peace with the world, so...good...
Then, it was gone. She opened her eyes, ready to protest this unjust punishment. Her words were stifled by the gasp that emerged from her mouth when she saw he was gone. She stood, racing out of the room to look into the hallway.
It was empty. She dropped to her knees, and couldn't stop a few bitter tears that crawled from her eye to her now-cold cheek.
-----
Sam opened her eyes, met with the comforting sight of her bed canopy, and let out a relieved sigh. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around her room.
There was only the light of the candles to illuminate the room. The day had been dreary and overcast, and after the sun had set the clouds blocked out the moon and the stars. It was lonely, and the silence was haunting to Samantha, who lay sitting on her bed and thinking about everything and nothing and anything all at once.
She thought about school, and her parents, and ghosts, and her two best friends, Tucker and Danny, and the things that girls think about in the comfort of their own home, away from all the pressures of their peers and maintaining an image. Sam wasn't one of these people, but she had her own private secrets that she never wanted to talk about.
Like those dreams.
Oh, they were wonderful and exciting, and yet frightening and troublesome at the same time. Like that one moment, up on a stage in front of a group of people, strangers and relations alike, taking that one deep breath before you sing your heart out. And you're scared that you'll mess something up, and can't wait to get it over with, but if you manage to hit that one bothersome note, you can just feel the crowd cheering for you afterward.
But Sam's dreams never had anything to do with a song or a stage, or even a crowd. They were blissful fantasies that she knew could never come true, no matter how much she yearned for it. Sometimes that killed her. Most of the time it relieved her.
The girl let out a sigh and fell back on her bed, letting her hair pool under her. The delightful torture of sleep was calling for her again and she doused the fire of the candles, curling up on her side.
-----
Sam watched as Danny walked up to his locker. The school was mysteriously deserted and devoid of its usual hustle and bustle. She tried to speak, tried to move towards him, but found she had no control.
But then she WAS walking toward him--but it wasn't her, persay. The figure had her hair, her clothes, and her face. But it wasn't her. Was it?
It clicked, suddenly, that she was watching herself. And yet it felt right, for some strange reason.
Sam stepped towards Danny. Currently he was leaning on the lockers, with a casual air about him. The noise of her boot heel on the floor caused him to look up into her eyes. He smiled. "Hey Sam."
"Hi Danny," Sam replied with a strange gleam in her eyes, one that Danny hadn't seen before. She was playing with her hair, something that was unusual for the girl. He raised an eyebrow.
"Are you OK, Sam?" Danny asked cautiously.
"Danny, Danny, Danny," Sam repeated, shaking her head, "I'm more than OK." And with that, she slid her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the lips.
The observing Samantha tried to call out, to yell, anything that would make the illusion stop...but she only watched in vain as Danny pulled the Sam-who-wasn't closer...
-----
Sam bolted upright, throwing the blanket off of her like it burned, and jumped out of the bed. She braced herself on the wall, feeling weak.
It was those godforsaken dreams. She wasn't supposed to have them, wasn't supposed to enjoy them, wasn't supposed to wish each night that she'd have another. She couldn't really like Danny THAT way...
Could she?
The girl felt sick with confusuion, and something else, as she walked into her bathroom and turned on the light. The white marble shone like crystal as she made her way in, past the sink, towards the large white bathtub. Sam turned the water on, and let it run over her fingers. The warmth comforted her almost immediately.
The basin filled, and Sam slipped into the water, still wearing the black lace nightgown she had fallen asleep in. The distressed girl let out a sigh that seemed to evaporate her worries away. A nice warm bath always calmed her down. Sam rested her head on the edge and closed her eyes to think.
-----
The candles on the table gave the room an eretheral glow as it shone off of the brick-red walls. A window on the other side of the room showed the large full moon as it peeked out from behind the clouds, the white light becoming red as it filtered through silken curtains. A light drizzle of rain fell out of the dark sky, making the grass outside sparkle as if it were littered with tiny diamonds.
But Sam wasn't interested in what was outside. Not tonight.
Rather she was interested in the boy leaning on her doorframe, an eyebrow raised with both suspicion and amusement. The candles flickering across his smiling features reflected in his eyes, creating the illusion of a fire burning behind them. The same kind of reflection was present on his chest, glistening off the result of a sticky summer day. The smile that flitted across his features only added to the appeal he had about him.
"What are you doing here?" Sam asked him, her voice surprisingly level.
His answer was not verbal, as he instead stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him. He turned, meeting her confused eyes with a steely look of determination. It was enough to make her draw back farther onto the bed. Now pressed against the headboard, she could only watch as he began to walk towards her. Before she knew it, Sam was looking directly into his eyes, only a few inches away.
"Wh-What are you doing?" she stammered once more. She was finding it hard to concentrate, because all she could see, all she couldfeel was him. He had a woodsy aroma about him, one of trees and sunshine and sweat and smoke...it was a good thing she was already sitting, for she didn't think she could stand.
"Something I should have done a long time ago," Danny replied, leaning closer to her...
-----
As she coughed the water out of her lungs, it occoured to Sam that maybe she COULD like her best friend that way. In fact, she'd liked him for a while now, and had fooled herself into thinking it wasn't true. These dreams she kept having about him were starting to wear on her, especially at school. Around him, it was almost unbearable to keep her mouth shut and her arms firmy at her side, when all she wanted to do was yell that she loved him to the world and then kiss him.
Life was a cruel, cruel woman, who had nothing better to do than torture teenagers with adolescent crushes.
She had retched the last of the bathwater out of her lungs, and now Sam stood. She was shaking, but that was to be expected. The sudden change in temperature had left her feeling cold, and her soaked nightgown was not helping.
It was time for bed.
Sam walked back into her room, stripping off the nightgown and throwing it onto the floor. She crawled under the covers and fell asleep.
Fin.
A/N: You all may be wondering what the heck this is. Well a while ago I was inspired by the very sentance that I used to begin this story, from a book that I had read in the library, and I thought--hey! Why don't I make a fic out of this! And I didn't know how to write about it for a while, and then it hit me: Dream sequence! So yeah, just a little drabble to make the plot-bunnies go away.