The hum of the electric fan filled the silence of Rhaine's room. She lay curled up on her side, her pillow hugged tightly against her chest, eyes half-shut but refusing to close completely. Every time she thought she was drifting into sleep, her mind snapped awake again, restless.
Sam's laugh wouldn't leave her head. The way her lips curved, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, the way she leaned close as if sharing a secret just between them. It was there, etched into her memory like it had been carved with a blade.
Rhaine pressed her face deeper into her pillow. Stop thinking about her. Stop it. Just sleep.
At some point, exhaustion claimed her.
And that's when the dream began.
---
She found herself standing in the middle of the school's garden, though it looked different brighter, sharper, like someone had painted every leaf with a deeper shade of green. The air smelled of roses, and the sunlight was warmer than it should have been.
"Rhaine," a voice called softly.
She turned. Sam was there, leaning casually against the old acacia tree, arms crossed, that same teasing smile on her face. But in the dream, Sam seemed… closer. Not just physically, but emotionally—as if the space between them had already been erased.
Rhaine's throat tightened. "W-What are you doing here?"
Sam tilted her head, eyes glimmering. "Waiting for you."
The words sent a jolt through Rhaine's chest. She took a step back, only to find herself caught the garden's path curved in a way that led straight to Sam. No matter how she moved, she couldn't walk away.
"You're always running," Sam said gently, her voice carrying an odd mix of amusement and sadness. "Why?"
"I'm not—" Rhaine's protest stuck in her throat when Sam stepped forward. The distance between them shrank until Sam was only an arm's length away. Her presence was overwhelming.
Rhaine's hands curled into fists at her sides. "Because… because this isn't right."
"Isn't it?" Sam's voice dropped, soft but firm. "Then why do you keep looking at me like that?"
Rhaine froze. She wanted to argue, to deny, to laugh it off like she always did. But her body betrayed her. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs, her face burned, and her eyes no matter how hard she tried couldn't pull away from Sam's.
Sam stepped even closer, their shoulders almost brushing. "You can keep pretending, Rhaine. Pretend you don't feel it. Pretend you don't want this. But your eyes…" She leaned in, her breath warm against Rhaine's ear. "…your eyes tell the truth."
Rhaine's knees weakened. Her breathing hitched. "I—I don't… I'm not—"
Before she could finish, Sam's hand rose and cupped her cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it sent shivers racing down Rhaine's spine.
"You're scared," Sam whispered. "Scared of what it means. Scared of yourself."
Rhaine squeezed her eyes shut, trembling. "I'm not… I'm not like that. I'm not like you."
Sam's thumb brushed against her cheek, tender, patient. "Then why are you shaking?"
Rhaine opened her eyes and realized just how close Sam was. So close that if she leaned forward even slightly, their lips would meet.
Her mind screamed No. But her heart whispered Yes.
The war inside her chest raged, louder than the pounding of her pulse.
Sam's eyes softened. "You don't have to say it. Not yet. Just… stop lying to yourself."
And then, before Rhaine could move, before she could speak, Sam leaned in—
Their lips brushed.
It wasn't even a full kiss, just the faintest contact, but it ignited something deep within Rhaine that terrified her more than anything else. Heat spread through her, wild and uncontrollable, while every wall she had built crumbled under the weight of that single touch.
She gasped—
And woke up.
---
Rhaine sat up in bed with a strangled cry, her heart racing so violently she thought it might burst. Sweat clung to her forehead, and her hands were shaking as she clutched her pillow.
Her room was dark again, shadows stretching across the walls. The dream clung to her like smoke, every detail sharp, every word echoing in her ears.
"No," she whispered hoarsely, pressing her palms to her face. "No, no, no. It was just a dream. Just… just my brain being stupid."
But the phantom sensation of Sam's lips lingered against hers, impossible to shake.
Rhaine buried her face in her hands, rocking slightly on the edge of her bed. "I don't like her. I'm not like that. I'm not."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
She lay back down, pulling the blanket over her head, as if hiding in the dark could erase what had just happened. But her body betrayed her again her chest still tight, her lips tingling, her pulse refusing to calm.
And beneath all her denial, a terrifying thought gnawed at her.
What if it wasn't just a dream?
What if, deep down, it was exactly what she wanted?