EPHEMERAL CHAINS

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A Dream That Wasn't Meant to Last

Rain drummed against the pavement, weaving silver trails down the glass pane. Each droplet caught the city lights, shimmering for a fleeting moment before disappearing into the darkness. Beyond the window, the world was blurred by the downpour, as if reality itself had softened, melting into something dreamlike.

Inside, Dave and Nora stood in silence, watching the rain paint its own story. The steady rhythm was soothing, but Dave barely heard it over the pounding of his own heartbeat.

His hands were stuffed in his pockets—one clutched into a fist around a small, velvety ring box. His fingers trembled slightly, though he wasn't sure if it was from nerves or something deeper.

He had seen this moment play out in romance stories, in films where the hero would fall to one knee and say those four simple words: Will you marry me?

But now that it was real, that he was the one standing on the precipice of forever, the words felt too small. Too simple.

What if she laughed? What if she hesitated?

What if she said no?

A deep breath. A steadying exhale. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he turned to her.

"Nora."

She shifted, drawn out of her quiet thoughts. Her deep brown eyes met his, filled with curiosity. She must have sensed something in his voice, something different.

Dave's pulse roared in his ears. There was no turning back now.

In a single motion, he pulled the ring box from his pocket and dropped to one knee. The movement was so sudden, so unexpected, that for a moment, Nora didn't react. Her lips parted in a silent gasp, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The world shrank to just the two of them.

Dave swallowed hard, pushing past the lump in his throat. His voice wavered, but he spoke anyway.

"I love you," he said, the words feeling both terrifying and exhilarating. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Nora's breath hitched. Her hand flew to her mouth, her fingers trembling against her lips.

For a split second, he feared the worst.

Then—she smiled.

It was soft at first, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through the morning mist. Then it grew, full and bright, filling the space between them.

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her body trembling as she slowly nodded.

But she didn't wait for him to slide the ring onto her finger. Instead, she sank to her knees, meeting him on the ground, and pressed a kiss against his lips, tasting of rain and warmth and every longing he had ever felt.

When she pulled away, her breath was uneven, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

"Yes..."

CRACK!

A sharp pain shot through Nora's forehead. Her dream shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.

Her eyes flew open, and instead of Dave's adoring gaze, she was met with the furious scowl of a young woman standing beside her bed, arms crossed and looking seconds away from murder.

"Are you serious, Nora?" Rose demanded, her voice sharp with irritation. "What the hell were you even saying just now?"

Nora groaned, rubbing her forehead where she'd just been smacked. The remnants of her dream still clung to her like a fading melody, but reality was quickly barging in, unwelcome and rude.

She blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains, a stark contrast to the dream's soothing rain.

"Ugh, Rose!" she whined. "Why did you wake me up? You ruined my dream!"

Rose rolled her eyes so hard they might have fallen out of her skull. She had been through this routine more times than she could count.

"Wow," she drawled sarcastically. "Five whole years, Nora. Five years of dreaming about the same guy. Don't you think it's time to let it go?"

Nora sat up abruptly, eyes still half-lidded with sleep but sparkling with undeniable joy. She ignored the jab, her dimples appearing as she grinned.

"No, no, you don't understand!" she gushed, cutting Rose off mid-rant. "He proposed! He was about to put the ring on my finger, and then you ruined it!"

Her excitement dimmed slightly, frustration flickering across her face. It wasn't just any dream. It was the dream. The one where Dave finally saw her the way she saw him. The one where he didn't ignore her, didn't walk away, but chose her.

And Rose had snatched it away in an instant.

Rose let out an exasperated sigh. "Nora, for the love of—"

"Don't wake me up when I'm dreaming!" Nora cut in sharply.

Rose threw her hands up. "Oh, so when it's a wet dream, I should just let you moan in your sleep?"

Nora's expression twisted into a scandalized glare, her face heating with fury.

"YES, ROSE! That would be nice!" she snapped. "I've loved him since I was eight years old!"

The intensity of her words echoed in the small bedroom, vibrating with raw emotion.

Rose stared at her, momentarily speechless. Then, with an exhausted groan, she turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her so hard the walls trembled.

The force rattled the picture frames on Nora's dresser.

But Nora didn't flinch.

She simply flopped back onto her bed, squeezing her eyes shut, willing herself to return to that dream—to that moment where Dave had been on his knee, where she had said yes, where they had kissed in the rain.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't slip back into the dream.

Reality was cruel like that.

With a frustrated sigh, she turned over.

And promptly rolled straight off the bed.

THUD.

A sharp smack of body meeting floor echoed through the room.

"...Ouch."

From outside the door, Rose's dry voice drifted back.

"Serves you right."

Lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, Nora groaned dramatically.

But even with the dull ache spreading through her back, she smiled.

Because for those fleeting moments in her dream, Dave Trump had been hers.