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TWENTY-THREE | DREAMSCAPE
Atticus
Honey-brown hair spilled across the pillow, tangled from hours of restless sleep. Darkness swelled outside, watching, waiting. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, shadowed crescent moons spilling spider’s legs across his skin in the dusty moonlight.Behind closed eyelids, green eyes searched relentlessly for one thing: her. His heart ached, pulsing with need for a girl with brown eyes that saw beyond the mask he presented to everyone else. Her eyes were brown, but they shone with gold.
His fist crumpled the rumpled duvet. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath catching in his throat.
He was in the garden again. Spring leaves formed an archway, a floating path that wound gracefully between the wide boughs of the trees. His feet followed it weightlessly. And, for once, his head felt empty, quiet, peaceful. His mind was gentle; she soothe
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