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Summary
“Do you remember when I told you that I dream about you?” Conrad asks.
“Conrad, I think I'd forget my own name before I forget that,” she answers without a single teasing edge in her tone, just honesty.
“I don't know if I'm allowed to admit this, if it'll sound too dark but… in the many countless dreams I had about you over the years there were some days, especially nights, where I dreamt of you,” he looks her deep in the eyes, “just like this.”
“Just like this?” She asks, her voice low as she suddenly starts to feel out of breath.
“Well, not exactly, but yeah,” he blinks. “Close,” he admits, his tone coming out raspy, going straight to her center.
Belly sits up straight in his lap, looking down at him, her lips curling up. “What was different in your dreams? Can you elaborate?”
Or: Back in Paris, right before their anniversary, Conrad feels inspired to tell Belly more about his dreams (thanks to her outfit for the night).