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Orange light filters through the leaves and spanish moss, slowly rising up until rays of it hit the still, black water, the reflection of it almost blinding. A thin mist hovers over the swamp, the morning birds chirping all around.
“Beautiful.”
Abby looks to her side, her heart constricting in her chest at the sight of Alec - of Alec as he was, not as he is - and she knows instantly that they’re dreaming. She smiles though, lets her fingers reach out to curl around his. Strokes her thumb over his knuckles, feeling the tiny hairs on the back of his fingers.
“It really is. Sunrise was always my favorite as a kid. Sunset was usually muggier. More mosquitoes, too.”
Alec laughs. It’s a soft, charming sound that she’s missed. He doesn’t laugh anymore, not as the being he’s become. He might smile, and sometimes she gets a brief, short chuckle, but never a laugh. It’s good to hear it again. He turns towards her then, hands moving to tuck her hair behind her ears before cupping her face. His skin is smooth and warm - alive. “I meant you.”
Abby blinks and then she’s laughing too, licking her lips as a slight blush warms her cheeks. It’s so corny, but she loves it. Loves him , maybe.
“Thank you.” She takes a step closer to him, leans in and savors the feeling of his arms sliding around to hold her. She listens to the soft and steady rhythm of his heart and breathes in his scent - all she smells is the swamp. The dream won’t last much longer.
“You’re waking up,” Alec murmurs with his lips pressed to the crown of her head, giving voice to her own thoughts. He’s so much bigger now, enveloping her almost completely. His voice is different, deeper, and he sounds so sad that it makes her heart ache.
“But you’ll still be with me,” she whispers. “So it’s not goodbye. It’s just good morning.” Abby looks up at him, looks into those red eyes that are so strange and yet so human. Her hands are on his chest, and she lets her fingers curl into the thin, winding vines that cover him. “I enjoy your company no matter what you look like.”
He smiles at her, that sadness still there, but tempered by her words. “Well, then. Good morning, Abby.”
Her eyes blink open, the sunlight no longer a soft, orange glow but a yellow-white brightness that illuminates her bedroom. Rising up to sit on the edge of her bed, she peers out the window, into the swamp, meeting the red gaze watching her from the trees.
Abby smiles. “Beautiful.”