Michael jumped up the dream that was more than a dream scared a piece him, somewhere felt scared. Bringing his hands to his face he noticed a certain wetness on trailing down his face. Running to the bathroom turning the corner as he faced the mirror to see nothing more redness around his eyes and the tears that had fallen out of them.
He had cried?
Cried.
Why, what had made him cry in his dream? He never recalled he had ever. He had maybe cried himself to sleep, but never had he woken up with tears. And all because of her. Because of what she had said like bells in his ears repeating, "Honestly, I think it's better that we met like this… meeting a lover's dream."
