A Dreamy Encounter - Part 3
First Published in The Roses Aren't Red Anthology
“TELL ME A secret,” Omoronke said. Damilare turned to her and laughed out loud. Three months ago, she would not have thought of his lopsided, shy smile as fond, but she had grown used to not just his smile, but also to his presence, his smell, the essence of him. In the last three months, Damilare had been appearing in her dreams, sometimes as an historical African warrior, who knew nothing of the modern world and had the most fascinating stories to tell. Sometimes, he was just as he was now, a modern man in jeans and t-shirt who knew everything about the modern world. Only his eyes remained the same. But between those two personalities, she was a constant.
Their dreams took them to so many places, and this time, they were sitting on the mountain plains, staring into the wild, the wind whistling into their ears.
“A secret, hmm… Let me think,” he said and frowned as if he was in serious thought.
She waited a few moments for him to say something and then it hit her that he was making fun of her. She nudged him in the shoulder and rolled her eyes. “You are not serious jor.”
Damilare laughed out loud but there was kindness in his eyes. It was fascinating the way they dilated. She didn’t think she would ever see something so beautiful in her lifetime, and she was an artist; she was surrounded by beauty all the time.
“Only you, Omoronke, only you would blatantly ask someone to tell their secret. It’s a secret for a reason, you know?” He said, still laughing.
“Okay, okay, let’s trade. You tell me a secret and I’ll tell you a secret,” she said. But he only laughed harder.
“Stop now,” she said, waving her arms like a child throwing a tantrum. “It’s not like anything you tell me here is going to be heard by someone else. We are a dream, we don’t exist.”
That immediately wiped the smile off Damilare’s face.
“What?” she asked quietly and nudged him again, staring at him with curiosity-filled eyes.
“You know, my father died in a car crash when I was a little. He was my best friend, and my eyes are a replica of his. When the bullies wouldn’t leave me alone because of my eyes, he made me feel loved, made me see the beauty in the oddity of my eyes, although just to avoid drama, I now wear contact lenses. But my father… He taught me to defend myself against them and he just… he just died like that, it wasn’t fair. The doctors said they couldn’t save him, and it was what made me decide to become a doctor.”
He sighed before continuing. “I know it sounds all cliché and stuff, but I was determined to help people the way the doctors couldn’t help my father. I’m older now and I know that it’s not possible to save everyone. But from the day my father died, I had been living my life as if I was in a simulation. I guess it’s why my last girlfriend cheated on me, or maybe she just couldn’t deal with the anxiety and the panic attacks. The truth is, nothing has ever felt more real to me than the moments I spend with you, nothing, not since my father died.”
The sincerity in his words was like a warm blanket by a fireplace on a cold night; she felt her insides melt at the intensity of it. She had always prided herself as a hard woman, with tough impenetrable skin. Love and romance were never a thing for her. Her parents’ unsuccessful marriage and all the unsuccessful relationships of the people around her had solidified her bias against romantic relationships. She was more about sex than committed relationships, but these feelings that she had been trying to suppress for the past three months, was it love? Was she falling in love with this mysterious man with the fascinating eyes?
“I… I…” Omoronke stammered. She wanted to say something, but she really didn’t know what to say. She had never been tongue-tied; her entire life, she always had the perfect response for everything. Damilare’s smile returned and it became even harder for her to speak. Then she laughed.
He watched her patiently as she laughed, his smile never once faltering.
“You know, my mother would love you. She always wanted me to be a doctor,” she said finally.
“But you chose art,” he finished for her.
“Yeah, I chose art or, rather cliché, art chose me. My mama hates me for it though, but I think I understand why I was chosen now.”
“And why did art choose you?” He asked, more laid back and relaxed than when the dream began.
“Because of you, Damilare.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Me?”
“I have been painting you – you and your multiple personalities, you and your gorgeous eyes,” she said.
“My eyes have been called many things, but gorgeous isn’t one of them. Hmm, let’s see, they have been called evil, spawn of the devil, possessed, freak…”
“Spawn of the devil? Like your eyes are the spawn of the devil but the rest of you isn’t?” Omoronke asked.
“People are weird,” he replied and that brought about another fit of laughter for both of them.
When they were quiet again, Omoronke looked into his eyes and said, “This is cheating. I have several paintings of you in the real world but you’ll never see them. That’s my secret but you still haven’t told me yours.”
He was quiet for a while, and just when Omoronke thought he might not answer her, he said, “I’m trying to find out where my other personality is from.”
“The warrior?”
“Yes, the warrior. My therapist thinks that it might be from my past life. I might be a reincarnation of some sort.” He smiled at her as her eyes twinkled with excitement. “The kingdom the warrior’s from doesn’t exist anywhere in this world but I’m determined to find it.”
“There, that’s my secret. It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
Omoronke shook her head slightly and smiled. “I think it’s a beautiful secret.”
“This girl, you can whine someone sha. There’s no such thing as a beautiful secret.”
“Of course, there is,” she argued.
“Ah, if there’s a beautiful anything in this place, it’s you.” Omoronke’s cheeks felt hot and she stared down at her hands shyly.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked out of the blue. Her eyes flickered back to his to see the intensity of her feelings mirrored in them. She nodded slowly. He lifted her chin slightly and then he kissed her.
Romance novels described kisses with sparks and fireworks, but even those words weren’t adequate to describe the delicious taste of his mouth, or the pleasurable rumbling in the pit of her stomach, or the tingling sensation between her legs. When they finally broke the kiss, neither of them could speak for minutes; they could only stare at each other.
And as the dream faded away, a smile played on Omoronke’s lips. This was definitely what being in love felt like.
To be continued…
Thank you for reading. Apologies for not posting last week, I absolutely forgot to schedule it. I hope you are enjoying this story, leave your thoughts in the comment to let me know what you think so far.
Read Part 4
A Dreamy Encounter - Part 4
“SO, YOU ARE telling me that you are in love?” Tade asked. There wasn’t a hint of amusement on his handsome face. “Yep,” Omoronke replied as she stuffed her face with Tade’s home-baked cookies. “Wait, you are telling me that you are in love with a man you have been seeing in your dreams, the one you have been painting?”