In Dreams

The first thing Clef felt when he finally dragged himself back to consciousness was head-splitting, mind-numbing agony. An involuntary moan escaped his dry lips as he raised a shaking hand to his throbbing temple, and he wondered briefly if he was dying. He felt awful. Aside from the headache, his stomach was roiling and his mouth felt as though somebody had stuffed an oversized wad of fabric into it, sucking out every drop of moisture and leaving nothing but gritty fuzz in its place. He tried to squint one eye open, only to squeeze it tightly shut again when even the dim light in his bedchamber pierced his vision like a hurled dagger.

Now he finally remembered just what a hangover felt like. And why he'd sworn so many centuries ago never to drink himself into such a stupor ever again. He grimaced involuntarily. It was truly amazing what sorts of stupid things unrequited love drove a man to do, wasn't it?

What bothered him even more than the pain, however, was how fuzzy his memory seemed to be. Of course, he'd been asleep during most of the aftermath of his drinking binge, but he was almost certain that something had happened during the night. He sought to recall at least a few details, but quickly gave up when the only thing that seemed to do was increase the size of his headache. He was certain he'd dreamed of Umi, but the images were blurred and faded. He was fairly glad about that, however, considering the little he did remember appeared to lean more on the … erotic side of the dream spectrum. He couldn't help but flush as he recalled a rather vivid fragment in which he was certain he'd been sucking her breast. He could almost feel the soft flesh between his lips, the subtle taste and feel of her puckered nipple against his probing tongue. And there were also soft cries and heat and slick moisture on his fingers as he'd stroked and pleasured her with those certain special techniques he hadn't invoked in centuries …

The dream-memory sent a surge of arousal straight into his loins and he hastily turned his thoughts elsewhere as his penis stirred. The last thing he needed was to deal with a raging erection on top of his raging hangover. He just didn't possess enough concentration to both satiate himself and keep the nausea at bay without heaving all over his sheets.

He slowly and meticulously sat up in the large bed, waiting for his stomach to settle. He opened his eyes by degrees until they adjusted to the light, then managed to crawl his way out of the bed and onto the cold marble floor.

“Oh! You're finally awake.”

The softly-spoken words startled him, causing him to jump in surprise and immediately let out a hiss of pain as the sudden movement jarred his sensitive head. The dizzying pain threw off his equilibrium momentarily, causing him to sway dangerously.

“Clef!”

An alarming crash came from the general vicinity of his doorway, coupled with the panicked cry that sent another stab of pain through his head. In another moment, he found himself being supported in a pair of slender arms that had wrapped themselves awkwardly around his waist. He blinked, trying to clear the dizzying pain, and was momentarily startled to find himself gazing into large, crystalline eyes the color of the ocean, only centimeters from his own. “U-Umi?”

Her cheeks were red as she gazed back at him, looking a bit sheepish. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you,” she said, keeping her voice as low as possible. “I didn't think you'd be awake yet. How are you feeling?”

Shame overwhelmed him. Shame at having been caught by the very last person whom he'd have wished to witness his disgraceful state. His indomitable pride rose in defense and he straightened stiffly in her arms. “I'm perfectly well,” he answered formally, even a bit coldly. “You simply … caught me by surprise, that's all. Might I inquire as to what you're doing in my bedchambers? Surely you realize how inappropriate your presence here is.”

She blinked at him, looking slightly surprised, even a bit hurt, before slowly withdrawing her arms and scooting back a few steps. Her head lowered slightly and she looked toward the doorway, where, for the first time, he noticed a silver tray on the floor amidst a litter of shattered porcelain and a puddle of steaming liquid. “I … I was just bringing you some tea,” she explained softly. “I knew you'd probably be feeling awful when you woke up and Presea told me that this tea is good for curing what ails you so … I thought I'd just leave the tray beside your bed for when you woke up. I-I'm sorry I dropped it. I'll clean it up.” She knelt beside the mess and began to diligently pick shards of porcelain out of the tea, placing them on the tray with careful precision.

Even with his blurred vision, Clef could see that her hands held a fine tremor and her back was unnaturally stiff. He sighed heavily as he belatedly realized that his harsh words had hurt her feelings. He recognized the defensive stance she always took when she was trying her hardest to act like a grownup and control her emotions, and not shout at him when he unfairly scolded her. Now he felt like a heel on top of everything else, snapping at her just because he was embarrassed, when all she'd been trying to do was help him. She looked like a chastised child kneeling there, carefully avoiding his gaze. The long, silken strands of her hair swung over her shoulders to hide her flushed cheeks, their ends nearly trailing into the puddle on the floor.

Gathering his strength and doing his best to ignore the nails being driven into his skull, Clef made his way over to her and hesitantly reached out to lay a hand gently against her hair, relishing in the feel of warm silk against his palm. “Umi, I apologize,” he murmured softly. “I didn't mean to snap at you. Please forgive my foul temper this morning. I am … not quite myself today.”

Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly, and she seemed to calm beneath his gentle touch and soothing words. “It's all right,” she replied quietly. “I understand.” Even so, she still couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes; he had the distinct impression that she was embarrassed about something, although it mystified him as to what it might be. “S-so I was wondering … um …” She trailed off uncertainly, pondering the wisdom of questioning him when his temper was so uncertain at the moment. She didn't want to accidentally set him off again.

“What is it, Umi? Please feel free to speak your mind,” he encouraged, smiling at her kindly.

Her gaze darted up to meet his, then away again as memories of heated kisses and intimate caresses immediately flooded her mind. Stop it. Now is not the time to think of that, idiot, she scolded herself firmly. Good heavens, if Clef ever discovered what had gone on between the two of them when he was so inebriated, she'd never be able to face him again! She wouldn't blame him if he accused her of taking advantage of his weakness. After all, she hadn't tried very hard to put a stop to it before it had gone even that far, so he wouldn't be completely unjustified in such accusations.

Well aware that the Madoshi was waiting for her to speak, she attempted to gather her thoughts. “Um … I—That is, I was wondering if you could tell me what it was that had upset you so much to … cause you to … indulge yourself in such a way,” she suggested delicately, well aware that she was walking on eggshells where Clef's personal life was concerned. As much as she'd opened up to him about her life, he'd always remained an enigma to her, preferring to listen rather than speak of himself. She was hesitant to intrude on his valued privacy, but at the same time she would never be at peace if she didn't try to help him with whatever problem was bothering him. After all, he'd do the same thing for her were the situation reversed.

Clef was surprised; whatever he'd been expecting her to say, it hadn't been that. For that matter, how had she known he'd indulged himself at all? The question left him uneasy. He'd never left his chambers, of that he was certain, so how could she have known he'd be waking up with a massive hangover? “What is it that makes you think something is troubling me?” he asked in return, gauging her reaction carefully.

Delicate teeth came out to bite down on a soft lower lip; a gesture that sent another flash of recollection through Clef's thoughts of those same lips yielding and soft beneath his own, drowning in hot, fervent kisses. His breath hissed softly between his teeth as the image replayed itself in his mind several times before he was able to force it away.

“I … I saw you through the terrace window,” Umi admitted softly as her gaze darted up to his again. “I saw you shatter the chalice against the wall and … and you looked like you were in so much pain.” Her delicate brows drew together. “Please, Clef, can't you tell me what happened? I've never seen you like that before,” she pleaded. “I-it really scared me. I want to help you, if I can.”

Clef nearly laughed at the irony of those words, knowing the only way she could ever help him would be to return his unwanted affections. He felt irrationally angry with her, for being the unknowing cause of his pain, for smiling at him so gently, as though he meant everything in the world to her when he knew very well that she regarded him as nothing more than a friend, perhaps even a father-figure to replace the one she hadn't seen in months. He wanted to tell her so, but the words caught in his throat. His pride wouldn't allow him to give in and confess his most hidden feelings, not when he doubted the chance of them ever being reciprocated.

He startled when slender arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulders, and Umi's head lowered to rest softly against his shoulder. He stiffened in surprise, torn between pulling her closer and losing himself in the scent of her hair, or pushing her away and stomping down the bubble of happiness that was slowly growing in the pit of his stomach at her unusual affection. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, gently taking her by the shoulders and pushing her away from him. She looked up at him uncertainly from her slightly lower position, kneeling before him on the cold floor, but he braced himself against the pleading in her eyes. “I thank you for your concern, Umi,” he said quietly, “but I'm afraid my problems aren't something that can be helped by you. It is something that I must deal with on my own.”

“By drinking yourself into a coma every night?”

Her words came out slightly harsher and more loudly than she'd intended; he winced as his head gave another twinge of pain. He looked down at her in surprise, both amused and slightly irritated to see that she now looked angry. Her eyes were snapping in the way that he loved when she was riled, and he realized she wasn't about to back down on the subject without putting up a fight. He smiled inwardly despite himself. His stubborn, endearing Umi … she had never been one to take no for an answer.

“And what would you do if I did tell you?” he asked her with the patience of one addressing a small child. “Do you think you have the means to fix my problem for me?”

She faltered, her expression filling with uncertainty. “W-well, I couldn't tell you that unless I knew what the problem was,” she stammered. “But … but at the very least I could listen. Sometimes just listening helps, doesn't it? It always does when you listen to me.”

He closed his eyes, smiling bitterly. “Sometimes listening does help,” he agreed softly. “But I fear that just listening won't do me much good in this situation, so I see no point in burdening you with my worries.”

She looked angry again. “Why not? Why don't you ever tell me when you feel upset over something? Why won't you let me try to help you? Don't you … don't you trust me?”

The question sent a sudden stab through his heart, his eyes widening in astonishment. Trust her? Did he trust her? He wanted to say yes, of course he trusted her, but … did he really? When it came to his heart, when it came to his love for her, did he trust her enough to tell her how he truly felt? Even if he faced certain rejection, couldn't he trust her to be gentle with him, to not ridicule him for having such hopeless emotions? Yes, she was flighty and shallow, and even insensitive at times, but he knew she wasn't completely heartless.

Still, the guilt overwhelmed him when he realized that despite the knowledge, he didn't trust her not to trample all over his heart. Even if she turned him down gently, the pity in her eyes would be more than he could bear. His pride simply wouldn't let him compromise himself like that. He gazed back at her helplessly, unable to answer, and slow understanding began to dawn in her eyes. The expression on her face was heartbreaking, and he involuntarily reached out to touch her, to offer what comfort he could, but she shied away from him and rose to her feet, taking the tray with her even though most of the mess still remained on the floor.

“I understand,” she said quietly, emotionless. “I guess it was too much to hope for. Maybe I really am a child, after all, wishing for impossible things.”

“Umi,” he began, reaching out to her again, wanting to tell her how sorry he was for hurting her, but she stepped out of his reach, shaking her head slowly.

“I just wanted it to be true,” she continued, and now he could hear her voice trembling ever-so-slightly. She spared him a quick glance before turning away, and he was dismayed to see the glitter of tears in her eyes. “I just … wanted to really be your Umi.” She spoke so softly that he just barely heard her.

But hear her he did, and he froze in shock as the words slowly registered. They sparked yet another recollection of his dream, or of what he'd thought had been a dream. His eyes involuntarily closed as the memories slowly became clearer in his mind, and his heart quickened in response. Heated kisses, breathless cries, soft caresses in the night …

You're here …

I never left. It was just a dream, Clef.

Please don't leave me, Umi.

I … I wish I could let you love me like this … I wish I really was your Umi …

Clef's eyes snapped open as realization struck him head-on, leaving him gasping and dizzy in its wake. She had been there, in his room, while he had—and she had let him. She had stayed with him, rather than fleeing with disgust. She had returned his attentions wholeheartedly, holding him, soothing him to sleep with her heartbeat and her warm, loving presence. She had clung to him when he'd touched her with passion, and not once had she mocked or ridiculed him, as he had unknowingly bared his very soul to her. In fact, she had seemed inclined to disbelieve everything he'd told her. Had he pushed her so far from him that she had no hopes of his ever loving her, even when he was practically ravishing her in his bed?

The shame he might have felt, however, was held at bay by a single, shining thought; a whispered admission of his desire, caught just on the border of sleeping and waking.

I love you, Clef …

He closed his eyes and allowed the memory of those words to wrap around his aching heart, easing the hollow pain in his soul. For the first time, he felt they hadn't been just a fragment of lost hope, after all.