It was a cursed dream.
The sand, the smell of salt, and the warmth of a hand so fiercely intertwined with hers―she could taste him on her tongue, a maddening poison, she could drown in the desperate longing, a feeling so intense it stole her breaths away.
Alyssane woke up with a gasp, the dream fading away in a hazy blur.
When she sank into the sea, everything had been a confusing mess, the memories flickered and faded. All that remained was a dull ache in her heart.
'I know you are not real… then why can't I let go?'
The persisting shadow of that dream unsettled her.
'My time is running out.'
Alyssane dragged herself away from the bed, draped a light shawl over her shoulders, and walked out in the cold morning breeze. She was not sure where to go, anywhere far enough would suffice.
