The sound of breaking glass woke her up. She sat on the bed quickly, but it was only him breaking some bottles in their bedroom. She laid down again, asking calmly:
- What's wrong, love?
- I dreamt you were fucking some bastard - he said, angry.
- It was just a bad dream, come back to bed honey - she was speaking with her eyes closed, barely awake. The sun light wasn't so bad because of the curtains, but yet it was sure that the day was, at least, in its middle. It was way too early for them to wake up, but he didn't seem to come back to bed. Resigning herself, she sat once more and looked at him. His ginger hair was a mess, and he walked through the room, almost cutting his feet with the broken glass on the floor. His mind was clearly far away, even though his thoughts were all about her and some random man above her. It drove him insane, and he felt like he could hit her to death, if it was really truth. However, she has always been with him, even when he had to travel, even we he lost everything. Why, then, this sudden terror of losing her? He wasn't the kind of man which loves a woman this way.
- What was so real in this dream, dear? - she got closer to him, without touching him. - Was it some guy we know?
- No, that's not the problem - he shook his had, still thoughtful. - You.. You were prostituting yourself.
- I'm sorry, what? - asked her, surprised.
- Not in the usual way - said him quickly. - But way worse. I don't know how, but I knew you where fucking him just because... well, because of the "life" he gave you. You know, all that rubbish about a serious and very responsible life, with everything very well structured, from the gifts of christmas to when you would have kids and stuff like that... You were fucking for a image of yourself. That's the problem.
Now, she was the one thoughtful. Oddly, she could understand everything he told her. The image of a "good" woman, with a well structured life, approved by everyone she knew, a pride for everyone. It makes sense, she thought. But that was a dirty and ridiculous thing for her, and her deepest hope was that she would never find it decent. That ginger, middle-aged and insane man who was walking through their room, completely worried by a dream, was the man she had been always in love with, her childhood dream, even though he wasn't a dream at all. Yes, he could be violent, lunatic and depressed, however, no one else had his beautiful eyes, his strong voice, his way of embosom her hair, hold her, give her as much pleasure as a man could give... and more than that, no one else sang with her on the lap when she was only a child, making her believe in better days, no matter how wrong they could sound for everyone else. He was, secretly, a paradise for her, and even the most perfect prince couldn't replace that.
- It was just a bad dream - said her, strongly now, touching his shoulder. - Now get naked and lay down, I'll make you feel better.
He looked at her eyes deeply, for a long moment, as if he could read the truth behind her words. After a while, he seemed satisfied, and so he obeyed her, getting naked into the bed, while she put a Led Zeppelin's cd and started to dance to him, accompanying the guitar flood, getting naked almost lazily, yet doing things in the way he liked. For him, she would always be a pretty good dancer, and when she were dancing on him, the bad dream was long forgotten. All they needed to do was to give themselves entirely for each other, and that was the way things were always going to be. Until the dream comes true.
- What's wrong, love?
- I dreamt you were fucking some bastard - he said, angry.
- It was just a bad dream, come back to bed honey - she was speaking with her eyes closed, barely awake. The sun light wasn't so bad because of the curtains, but yet it was sure that the day was, at least, in its middle. It was way too early for them to wake up, but he didn't seem to come back to bed. Resigning herself, she sat once more and looked at him. His ginger hair was a mess, and he walked through the room, almost cutting his feet with the broken glass on the floor. His mind was clearly far away, even though his thoughts were all about her and some random man above her. It drove him insane, and he felt like he could hit her to death, if it was really truth. However, she has always been with him, even when he had to travel, even we he lost everything. Why, then, this sudden terror of losing her? He wasn't the kind of man which loves a woman this way.
- What was so real in this dream, dear? - she got closer to him, without touching him. - Was it some guy we know?
- No, that's not the problem - he shook his had, still thoughtful. - You.. You were prostituting yourself.
- I'm sorry, what? - asked her, surprised.
- Not in the usual way - said him quickly. - But way worse. I don't know how, but I knew you where fucking him just because... well, because of the "life" he gave you. You know, all that rubbish about a serious and very responsible life, with everything very well structured, from the gifts of christmas to when you would have kids and stuff like that... You were fucking for a image of yourself. That's the problem.
Now, she was the one thoughtful. Oddly, she could understand everything he told her. The image of a "good" woman, with a well structured life, approved by everyone she knew, a pride for everyone. It makes sense, she thought. But that was a dirty and ridiculous thing for her, and her deepest hope was that she would never find it decent. That ginger, middle-aged and insane man who was walking through their room, completely worried by a dream, was the man she had been always in love with, her childhood dream, even though he wasn't a dream at all. Yes, he could be violent, lunatic and depressed, however, no one else had his beautiful eyes, his strong voice, his way of embosom her hair, hold her, give her as much pleasure as a man could give... and more than that, no one else sang with her on the lap when she was only a child, making her believe in better days, no matter how wrong they could sound for everyone else. He was, secretly, a paradise for her, and even the most perfect prince couldn't replace that.
- It was just a bad dream - said her, strongly now, touching his shoulder. - Now get naked and lay down, I'll make you feel better.
He looked at her eyes deeply, for a long moment, as if he could read the truth behind her words. After a while, he seemed satisfied, and so he obeyed her, getting naked into the bed, while she put a Led Zeppelin's cd and started to dance to him, accompanying the guitar flood, getting naked almost lazily, yet doing things in the way he liked. For him, she would always be a pretty good dancer, and when she were dancing on him, the bad dream was long forgotten. All they needed to do was to give themselves entirely for each other, and that was the way things were always going to be. Until the dream comes true.
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