Waiting on Morning

After the recurrence of her terrifying nightmares, Nebraska-native Maeva Blake has to find out why she's having them again. In the midst of be courted her charming Sebastian, Mae has to learn the truth about her gruesome dreams and their ominous messages. Unfortunately, she has to dig through her painful past to find her answers.

( Have an open mind going into this story! It can get a little vulgar and violent, sometimes even a bit risque. Comments, likes, critiques, all is welcome! Enjoy! )


8. Honesty

            I realized that it was awfully close to seven, when Sebastian was supposed to pick me up. I decided to not care about my hair and just throw it up in a bun. My outfit was definitely not date material, but it was my best effort. I even wore my best bra and underwear for this occasion… Just in case.

            I looked in the mirror and decided that an oversized sweater and my favorite pair of jeans would have to suffice. Despite the incredible height difference between us, I still concluded that moccasins were the best choice in shoes. I heard the doorbell and panicked, he was early.

            I picked up the last few things I needed, like gum and possibly a toothbrush, and darted down the hallway. My dad was just about to open the door.

            “I got it!” I hollered, grabbing the door handle and turning it. The tall, handsome suitor stood at the door, with his usual casual style and sporting a beanie, smiling brightly. He reached out a hand to my dad.

            “Hi, I’m Sebastian,” he said politely. My dad shook his hand and looked at me with a confused stare.

            “Dad, Sebastian; Sebastian, my dad, Gary. Okay! Now we’re all caught up. I’ll see you later!” I said, pushing Sebastian out of the doorway, wedging my way between them.

            “Please be safe, okay?” I nodded and said bye again before closing the door swiftly behind me. Sebastian loomed over me, smiling. I smiled up at him. He picked me up with one quick motion and carried me down the stairs to the passenger door. Setting me down, he simultaneously opened the car door for me. I climbed into the truck and after he did so, he zoomed over to the café we had tea for the first time.


            I walked into his dark apartment, and when he turned on the lights, I just stood in surprise. It was all too cute: the pile of blankets set up on his futon, which was set down into a bed, the small candles set on the coffee table, and a collection of movies sprawled about the floor. He shut the door behind me and threw his keys into their bowl.

            “Pick two,” he murmured, his lips right next to my ear. He ran off to the kitchen and I browsed through the movies.

            “So, I was thinking pesto, is that alright with you?” He asked.

            “That’s fine with me,” I called, still observing which movies we should watch. I would never have pegged him for someone with Crash in his movie collection.

            “So, if you don’t like any of my movies we could always go to Redbox and pick something up. Or if you want we can go watch something in the theaters, I heard that the new Thor is pretty good.”

            “Actually, I’d prefer if we stayed here; seriously?” I picked up Mean Girls. I looked at him and he shrugged.

            “It’s hilarious.” He chuckled to himself and went back to preparing dinner.


            “Okay, that’s so not true,” I said, laughing.

            “That is definitely true! Regina’s father is M.I.A.; therefore, she’s a bitch because she has daddy issues. It’s so true. You can’t even argue with me on this,” he said, chuckling then taking a sip of his soda.

            “Well, this is a very ‘snapshot’ look at their lives, you can’t assume something like that with such little informa—“

            “Are we seriously debating fictional character’s backstories right now?” He laughed again, looking down at me, tucked under his arm. I laughed and smiled, realizing that it was as ridiculous as it sounded. I rest my head on him and I felt him rest his head on top of mine. His arm was draped around me; his limb was so long it comfortably rested on my knee while I was curled into him. I felt so safe with him that it terrified me a bit. I didn’t know that I could become so attached so quickly. Then I remembered that I had news to tell him.

            “Sebastian?” I asked sheepishly, not moving my head.

            I felt him shift the weight of his head, “Yes?” he spoke into my hair. He kissed my head softly.

            “I’m going away for a little while.” All of my body tensed; I didn’t want this to end yet. He shifted underneath me, forcing me to look up at him. His eyes looked into mine.

            “What do you mean?” he seemed more pained that I had hoped.

            “I have some stuff wrong with me, and I really need to figure it out. I’m going home to Nebraska for a little while,” my voice weakened. His gaze explored my face to see how serious it was.

            “How long will you be gone for?”

            “I don’t know. At the most, a couple years…”

            “A couple years?” He said, his voice echoing with disappointment.

            “I really need to figure this out. This is a serious thing for me, and I don’t want to wrap you into something that I can’t control yet. I don’t want this to hurt you like it’s hurting me,” I stopped myself. I had said too much already. “You know, I think I should just go,” I pulled myself from underneath him. I started gathering my things when I could feel him standing behind me. I froze.

            “Mae,” he said, sounding wounded. I turned around to meet his gaze. I forgot how tall he was sometimes… My breath hitched, my eyes scanned his beautifully sculpted face; I couldn’t help but bring a hand to his chest. I ran my hand along the neckline of his shirt, feeling his warmth underneath my hand. I didn’t want to leave as much as he didn’t want me to.

            “I don’t want to hurt you. And I’m afraid that letting you in will hurt you.” I confessed.

            “I don’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want anything else. I know we don’t know a lot about one another, but I can’t just let go of you. I can’t just let you walk out on me yet.”

            “I promise I’m not walking out on you, I would never—“

            “That’s not what I mean.” His voice sounded husky. My heart pounded against my ribs so loud, I was sure he could hear.

            “I want you. I’ve dated enough women to know that this is far different for me. I can see that you feel the same way; I can feel it when we’re touching and when we’re not. I don’t think you should leave yet. I can’t let you leave yet.” His tone grew stern. I knew that he was right. I couldn’t just get up and walk out on him; neither of us wanted that so why do it?

            “What do we do then?” I asked, out of ideas. He began to pace the room, running his hands through his hair. I really could not keep my composure around him.

            “Okay,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I’ll come clean about everything. But you have to let me know about you, because I need to. I want to.”

            My head started racing, what do I tell him? Everything? He doesn’t even know what he’s getting himself into. I don’t even know what I’m getting myself into.

            I looked up at him, “Okay.” 

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