Romans & histoires The Dream Of The Red Chamber

She waddled slowly and nervously, her high heel triggered a little noise as it touches the solid floor. She showed her invitation to the security men and entered the place. The grand hall was in a red decor, her favorite color, the hall was filled with people from the first class. she glanced around but unfortunately, all the faces were new to her. She sighed, why would he invite me on such an occasion. she thought.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once. The way you did once upon a dream. I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.” That familiar tune from Sleeping Beauty was on repeat as m

Never. He exhaled. Why was she different? Then his grandfather’s words hit him like a battering ram in the gut. If you’re dreaming about a redheaded woman over and over, you’re about to meet her and she’s your heart’s mate. Impossible. The woman in his mind, his dreams, was just a fantasy. It wasn’t necessarily Morgan. But she’d felt a whole lot like a fantasy come true.

Then he passes and passes again, making it clear what he would like her to understand. She was so tired, she decided to take it. The dream was divided, she didn't know how many parts, but it was obvious that it wasn't a single one. She didn't care how many times he shared, she just tried to understand, again, what he was talking about. Anyway, what seemed to be the first, showed a young woman, who had not passed her seventeen years, who was sitting in a garden so flowery that it hurt so much brightness and color. She was so beautiful that it wasn't like something that was easily noticed in the garden, it seemed like she was part of it, like her queen, her lady. So she nicknamed her as Dama.

The cold came in through the window in this December season and made the redhead's body shiver. She opened her eyes suddenly at the sound of her children getting up. She looked at her body, clammy from the cold. She didn't understand how she dreamed every night of those blue eyes that looked at her with intensity and those thick hands with yellow hair that touched her body every night. Who is this man I dream about? I've never dreamed about Sam like this before. Is he a man I love very much? she thought.

I didn’t even bother trying the door handle, since I knew I was locked in. The room was the same as I remembered from my dream. A large four-post bed was in the middle with black silk bedding. A fire was burning in the brick fireplace off to the side, with a chaise in front of it. There were no windows, and the place felt cold even though the fire burned hot. There were two doors other than the one I had entered through. One led into a large ensuite, while the other was a walk-in closet. My eyes fell on the dress that lay on the bed. It was a vibrant red and made of silk. Under normal circumstances, I would have found it beautiful, but now I dreaded the idea of wearing it.

That night, I had a very detailed sexual dream, so intense it was like a living reality. In my dream, I found myself standing in our bedroom, my eyes drawn to the figure of Elysia, who was bound to the large, four-poster bed. She was dressed in nothing but a scrap of red silk that barely covered her, her skin glowing like freshly-fallen snow against the deep mahogany. Candles flickered around the room, casting dancing shadows over her body, and the scent of musk and vanilla filled the air.

Dario Pov After years of longing, the master bedroom of the house feels like a dream come true, with its carved double doors gleaming beneath the warm light of the chandelier. My lost love, Layla, is back, and her presence is like a spark rekindling a fire I believed had gone out. Imagining Layla here, her laughter resonating as it did in that bookshop years ago, her hazel eyes softening in trust, makes my heart rush. I had been imagining her in this room for days, preparing for her arrival.

She turned and walked back into the garden. She stood there for a long time, alone. The Cooper family's garden was filled with roses, all personally planted by Steven for her. The summer night breeze carried the scent of roses. It should have felt refreshing, but Lucy only felt a deep, unbearable cold. She took out her phone and called her best friend, Camille Reinhart. "Camille, help me arrange an accident at sea." Camille's voice sharpened. "What happened? Why are you suddenly saying this?"

I don't know. In the haze of sleep, my mind drifted, pulling me into a dream.It was faint at first, like trying to grasp smoke. Images swirled and flickered, just out of reach. But then, a figure came into view. A woman. I could not see her face clearly, but her silhouette was sharp. She was wearing a red ball gown, her hair cascading down in loose waves.