Fever Dream


She was his fever dream, his ruination, his damnation, his Annalise.
He stole her in the night, held her captive in his ivory tower. After all, she was his little star and he wanted to spend all his eternity with her. With her aquamarine eyes, her cheeks glowing a delightful shade of pink, her lips pulled down in a grimace and her ink black hair a sharp contrast to her fair skin, she featured in all his daydreams.

The first time he saw her, he was enraptured by her beauty, his thinking capacity completely and wholly obliterated. From that day he wanted her, he wanted her close and he wanted her with a madness that defied logic.

He placed a white rose in her hair, just the way she liked. She looked so forlorn, that he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. His hands took hold of her face, turning her face upwards, thumb lightly tracing the arch of her lips before closing the distance and covering her mouth with his. He sighed, his soul at peace, his heart at home. He wasn’t leaving her, so he pulled her close and she went easily into the heat of his arms. His hand left her face, slid down her throat and came to rest upon her heart. His other hand encircled her waist and held her tight lest she melt like molten wax and escape his embrace.

His open mouthed kisses and rough caresses heightened the colour on her cheeks, she was enchanting, his Annalise.

Before he could lay her down, love her senseless, dawn broke through the sky, and she disappeared in smoky tendrils, escaping through his fingers. He was left clutching the air, sitting with the white rose on her unmarked grave that he had dug with his own bare hands on the day he silenced her screams.
Oh, she was sweet, his Annalise.
His fever dream.

22 thoughts on “Fever Dream

    1. Hello, I had beauty and the beast in my mind while writing this but the beast is really an obsessive lover. I’m glad u saw my attempt to bring the ugly side of a love story hidden in the trappings of flowery, sappy imaginings. Thank you so much πŸ’– love x

      Liked by 2 people

  1. A pretty archetypal story. The woman locked in the tower. Beauty and the Beast you said?

    One of the most frustrating things is extending an idea out to a couple thousand words. You should use this story as a plot map, and broaden it a little bit. I think you’ll be surprised.

    It’s a little writing technique I use. I’ll write a poem—say, twelve or thirty lines—and then take the lines as individual plot points, and broaden those plot points out to about 50 lines each. Sometimes you just need to get the story out into a coherent composition, and it will create some really neat effects in your story. Very tight composition in storytelling. It doesn’t mean you have to follow them to a T.

    Good work.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Hello,
      I pondered over this carefully and I agree.
      This was meant to be a tragedy not a romantic story.
      The thing about keeping my stories short is that for this medium, I believe I just don’t want to bore people out with lengthy narrative arcs. But I do get your point that if plot is intriguing it may pan out really well.
      I am basically trying to reach out to everyone. Shock them maybe, therefore, abrupt endings. I’ll try my best to spin it in coherent composition, because that point is what I have also felt while writing.
      Overall, thank you so much. I will keep all of that mind and maybe somehow polish my future works πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

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