Page 152 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

Turns out I don’t have to wonder for much longer.

The limo drops Bellamy and Thayer at Rogue and Rhys’ place after our night out, while Phoenix comes home with me and Nera.

She’s as tipsy as I am, so he helps her to her room before coming back to the kitchen and making me a snack.

“Eat.” He instructs, putting the plate in front of me when I sit at the kitchen island.

“I’m not hungry.” I say with a pout, extending my arms to reach for him.

He crosses his arms and leans his hip against the counter as he smirks at me. “I’m not fucking you until you’ve sobered up.”

“Well, in that case,” I reply, digging into thejambon-beurresandwich he just made for me. I groan after the second bite, pointing at it enthusiastically, “This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had in my life.”

He leans closer, his top half bending towards me. “You’re very complimentary when you drink.”

I take a sip of my water and look up at him. “Maybe it’s only when I’ve had some liquid courage that I feel comfortable telling you the truth.”

“Is that right?” He asks, his lips nuzzling my cheek.

“Mhmm,” I reply, leaning into his touch.

“You’re not sobering up fast enough,” he says, his lips finding mine in a heated kiss.

I push back my chair and get up before jumping into his arms. “Eh, wasn’t that drunk anyway.” I announce, returning his kiss and ripping my top off in the same move.

He laughs and carries me into my bedroom where he fucks me twice before we fall asleep.

***

It’s the middle of the night when I’m suddenly awoken and immediately, I know something is off.

I have trouble rubbing the sleep from my eyes, but that’s because I was having The Dream.

The one about Astor.

It’s a recurring dream that I often used to have in the years after the accident, but that I haven’t had since I came to RCA.

In it, I don’t lag behind him. I don’t fall off my bicycle. I don’t stop to inspect if I broke anything. I immediately get back on the bike and ride after him, stopping him from cycling into the road without looking.

The dream is the same as always, except this time when I get to the road, I find him already safely stopped on the other side of the street, standing next to his bicycle.

I walk my own bike to the edge of my side and stare at him over the passing cars. It’s a half lucid dream because I know that this isn’t what happens in real life and I’m even cognizant of the fact that this isn’t how the dream typically goes, but it feels real.

In the dream, tears pool in my eyes when he beams at me over the cars. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him or dreamed of him that I’d started to forget the finer details of his face.

I trace the contours of his features, memorizing them all once more. The mirth in his eyes, the shadow of his dimple, the curve of his grin.

He runs a hand through his golden hair and gives me a smile so brilliant, it hurts.

“Take care of Phoenix, okay? He’s going to need you, he always has.” He tells me. I nod, my vision blurry through the tears.

He’s never spoken in my dreams before.

He gets on his bike and gives me one last long look and a grin over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, ladybug. I’m fine.”

He turns back around and pushes off the ground, cycling away into a surrealistic sunset where I watch him disappear.

I frantically call his name, but he never turns around. I don’t know why I thought he might — it’s naive of me to think I could control a dream any more than I can reality.

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