The Dream (Picking Up the Pieces, cont'd)

As Aittera stepped into the moonlit clearing, a gentle breeze stirred the skirt of the emerald silk dress that she wore. The sounds of the forest mingled with that of the dying embers in what was left of the fire in the center of the campsite. He was standing on the opposite side of it, waiting for her, and the waning firelight cast a dim glow in his loose white hair and piercing green eyes. 

The dark shadow on his neck and chin told her that he'd been here a few days, and the amusing contrast of a dark beard with all of that white hair struck her, causing a smile. She took one step further to join him in the fading circle of firelight, his gaze leaving hers just long enough to appraise the way the dress flowed around her while defining every delicious curve like a sensuous embrace. It seemed only fair, she thought to herself. While he was drinking her appearance in, she was admiring his muscular arms and strong, chiseled chest.

It seemed as though one step brought him to her side of the fire, and he was standing before her, his hands raised to cradle her face as gently as though he were handling something delicate and precious. Her senses were so filled with his presence, she swayed on her feet, leaning into him until he captured her lips with his own...

Aittera's eyes opened to the darkness of her quarters aboard the Devious Hope. Beside her, Selus slept with an arm hooked around her, his breath slow and steady. The dream had seemed as real as this moment, and it took several minutes to dispel it, dismissing it as nothing really important.