Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara felt trapped in that dream, lost for what seemed like forever, her body heavy with exhaustion, as if something was pressing down on her and refusing to let her wake.

She could still recall the surge of emotion washing over her back then-the warmth of a hand reaching out, steady and reassuring, like it was the only thing keeping her afloat. That little crush she'd tried to ignore suddenly felt so real, so solid. Maybe it started right there, in the thick summer heat, surrounded by the clamor of birds and animals. For the first time, she finally understood what it meant to want someone so much you'd actually dream about marrying them.

It was a strange feeling-delicate, impossible to put into words.

She tried to wake up but couldn't. The metallic scent of blood clung to him-he must have been hurt badly too, and still, he never said a word.

Her vision stayed blurry. "How much longer until our teacher comes to get us?" she asked, her voice small.

Through the haze, he finally answered, "Soon."

She could sense it-they were slowly getting out of that terrifying forest, and the sunlight beyond the trees kept getting brighter.

She sat in the grass, trying to rest, and listened to his footsteps as they faded away. Maybe he'd gone hunting again-would they end up eating roasted meat like before?

But after a few steps, he turned back and quietly sat down beside her.

She looked up, but everything was still fuzzy. Only the sun looked clear-a pale white disc overhead.

her. He gently cupped her face, pressed

there, not really sure how to feel,

was too easygoing, a little slow on the uptake when it came to feelings-maybe even a bit gullible. Would she

the sound of someone

with one

let go

was pounding, and last night's dream still felt way too

out of bed. "Are you hungry? I'll make us some breakfast,"

bought enough groceries last night to

wearing a shirt, two buttons missing-ripped off, probably by her, exposing his collarbone and just enough of his chest to make

was still a bite mark on his collarbone, faded but stubborn, like it had decided

to be distracted, but the sight was almost too much.

faked a cough and hurried out of

room, she found the table already

and ask about it, but as she opened the

collided with his