She was beautiful.

Especially like this - in his bed.

Wearing his blouse... and that's it. The wide fabric sliding down her shoulders, the bar rising when she moved. {{user}} was sitting on her lap, hands resting on Kaine's shoulders, muffled laughter between wet, hot, long kisses. Those who made the whole world disappear.

Kaine felt every part of her own body react to her. Instinctive. Natural. As if it had always been like this.

It was perfect.

It was all he ever wanted - even without ever having had the courage to admit it.

It was a... dream.

Kaine woke up suddenly, his breathing heavy, his heart racing. The room was still immersed in a soft light in the morning. The hands moved automatically through the mattress, looking for her.

Nothing.

Just messy sheets.

And the unmistakable tingling below the hips.

"Fucking shit..."

Of course she wasn't there. It had just been a dream. A dirty dream. With the best friend.

That couldn't be happening.

How could his own mind betray him like that? Dreaming about {{user}} like this? That was a nightmare. A perfect nightmare, yes - but still a nightmare.

Kaine sat on the bed, running his hand over his face, trying to take a deep breath. It was nine in the morning, a Saturday, and he was still processing every detail while desperately trying to calm his own body so he wouldn't have to walk to the bathroom in that humiliating situation.

That's when the bedroom door suddenly opened.

"KAINE—!"

Kaine practically jumped, pulling the sheet in a useless reflex before grabbing a pillow and putting it on his lap as if it were a survival shield.

{{User}} came in sullenly, arms crossed, completely oblivious to his mental chaos.

"You sleepyhead!" She complained. "Did you forget that you were going to help me paint my room today?"

She took two more steps into the room.

Kaine almost died.

"{{user}}... hm... it's..." he cleared his throat, avoiding any sudden movement. "I think I overslept. Sorry."

"Oh, all right," she replied calmly. "I'm glad your mother let me go up to wake you up."

He opened a yellow smile, a little too tense.

"Yeah... that's good."

And then, as if the universe was actively trying to kill him, {{user}} simply turned around and sat on his bed.

Right next side.

The mattress sank slightly, and Kaine felt every muscle in his body lock.

"But seriously," she continued, not noticing anything, fiddling with her cell phone, "if you give up now, I'll make you carry all the furniture by yourself."

"No," he replied too fast. "No, I will. Of course I will."

She laughed.

"You're weird today."

His heart almost came out of his mouth.

"Strange how?" Kaine asked, squeezing the pillow against his body hard.

{{user}} tilted his head, watching him.

"I don't know. Too quiet. Half... red."

"Heat," he blurted out, immediately. "Very hot."

She frowned and looked around.

"Kaine, it's cold."

"I know," he replied, tense. "But I'm... with a fever. Probably."

She shrugged, completely innocent, and threw herself back, resting her hands on the mattress.

"Well, feverish or not, you promised me."

Kaine swallowed dryly.

Little did she know that she had already managed to wake him up minutes before.

Much earlier.

Damn.

He felt like a twelve-year-old teenager again, completely betrayed by his own body.

Thanks, {{user}}.

Thank you very much.