Chapter Six-Delilah

I remember my mother's description of her going through the portal, and I couldn't agree more. My brain felt like it was melting into silly putty and then being reshaped into my brain again. My legs felt like they were resisting my demands of swimming forward, and it took all my strength to get them to keep moving.

I had walked all day to get here to this pond, and had almost given up multiple times. But I just kept thinking about the boy, about how good it would feel to hold him.

So I kept going.

And now I was suffocating, my lungs felt like they were melting into my rib cage, and I didn't think I would make it. I literally thought I was going to die.

Delilah.

Delilah.

"Delilah!" I could hear someone calling my name. My boy. He was there,

Grabbing my hand.

I intertwined my fingers in his, and reach up to grab his forearm with my other hand. "Don't let go, Delilah."

I won't.

I could feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.

My mind and my body were slipping, slipping into a place I was scared I wouldn't be able to come back from.

But I held onto that one little string.

And suddenly I could breathe again.

I inhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling of cold, sharp air making its way through my lungs. Warm, rough hands held my face, and air that smelled of blood and honey tickled my nostrils.

"You're here. You're actually…" I smiled at the voice. I knew it was my boy. "What are you smiling at, silly girl?" I heard his gorgeous chuckle.

"You didn't think I would come, did you?" I whisper into the night. I can't really see my boy yet, just a blurred outline. My mind is still foggy and trying to recuperate from the time it spent deprived of air.

"No, no I didn't." And then he was closer to my face, his breath so close I could feel its warmth.

"Are you going to kiss me?" I whisper as he finally comes into focus. There are those eyes. I'm relieved those weren't just part of my dreams. He doesn't respond, he just kind of grunts.

And then he's pressing his lips against mine.

He taste like everything I thought he would: honey, blackberries, and a bit like blood. His lips are soft and full, and meld perfectly with mine.

He puts his hand on the small of my back, pulling me as close to him as physically possible. His body is hard and warm, and I dip into it, grabbing the back of his hair with my hand. He makes a sound that sounds almost like a growl in response and shifts so i'm sitting in his lap. Never do our lips come apart. A drop of water rolls down my face from my hair and in between our lips and I taste the mossy pond water dance between our tongues.

It was a fairytale kiss, kneeling by a fairy tale pond, in a fairy tale land.

We pull apart only to look at each other.

He is the same as he was in the dreams, if not better. He's taller than I thought, if that was even possible, and has slightly pointed ears. I run a finger across his brows, which are dark and thick. As I'm touching his face, his cheekbones and jawline, he's touching my back and shoulders, and then he's running his hands through my thick hair, his eyes begging me for another kiss.

"I didn't come here to make out with you." I smirk at him.

"Didn't you?" His eyes are dark and playful, challenging me to deny him.

"Maybe a little." I kiss his lips again, biting the bottom one playfully. He growls, a low rumble in his chest.

"What are you, a bear?" I ask, pulling away and grinning.

"Sometimes." He shrugs, making it seem like he was being serious.

"Wait-" Just as I'm about to ask if he was being serious, I hear that whistle from my dreams. I feel a little ball of worry in my chest, worry that he's going to leave me alone in this foreign place.

"This time, you come with me." He grins, and stands, still holding me in his arms. I wiggle around until he sets me down. He has a huge wet spot on his clothes, and I chuckle, which makes him laugh, which makes me start laughing like a banshee, and then he's roaring with laughter. I feel a little silly, standing in the middle of a field, laughing at a joke neither of us gets. But it's also kind of nice; after all the shit I went through to get here.

I can only admire the sound. It's old sounding, and I swear it's the loudest thing I've ever heard. I feel slightly intimidated by that laugh.

"Where to?" I say as the whistle sounds again.

"To my home." He holds out a huge hand, and I take it. My hand is small, and I feel like a child standing next to him. I literally have to look up at him.

"My people can get pretty big." He shrugs, grinning that smile of his. And then he's tugging me behind him, and my small legs are struggling to keep up with his long ones.

I fall behind a bit, letting go of his hand. He turns around to reach for me again, but sees me looking around and walks a bit ahead, giving me a moment to admire his woods.

There are bugs with glowing butts floating around that I never noticed before. One landed on my arm and I stared at it for as long as it'd let me before flying away to join it's friends again.

There were flowers that were literally opening up in front of me, and I looked to my boy for answers. "They only bloom under the moonlight." He answers, touching one gently with his huge hands. I grab his thumb, and he wraps his fingers through mine.

"Are you ready to meet my family?" He asks. I hadn't even noticed we had come to the house I had been seeing. The front door was tall and solid looking, and had flowers blooming around it.

Suddenly, it burst open and three children came running out.

"Larkin, you're home!" They ignored me as they climbed up his legs as though he were a literal tree, which I guess he could have been. I stepped back and looked at him, and thought he must've been at least seven feet tall. Unnaturally tall.

"Who's that?" I heard a quiet voice whisper. I looked to the front door, and there were two girls whispering between themselves. "She's pretty."

"Hi." I say, taking a step forward and waving a little. "I'm Delilah." They break away from the door and come running at me. They're solid little things, almost knocking me down as they crash into me. But they mean no ill intent. They hug me and then step back, questions immediately spilling from their curious lips.

"Where did you come from?"

"Are you a dream hopper?"

"Do you love Larkin?"

"Ewwww, are y'all dating?" I chuckle at the last questions, but hold onto the second one. I would find out what a dream hopper was later.

"Larkin, huh?" I ask, looking at my boy. He shrugs that damned shrug of his. "Nice."

"Larkin?" I hear a different, older voice. I turn, and stare into the weirdly orange eyes or an older woman with dark hair and a small frame. She's got flour smeared on her face, is wearing a ragged looking dress, and has a toddler on her hip. She stares at me, and I feel the electricity between us. As well as the tension. She finally looks away towards Larkin. "Who's this?"

"You know who it is, Mother." He sets the child who had been climbing up his front down, taking a step towards her.

"How did she get here?" She is still staring at Larkin, and I get the feeling that will be the last time she ever looks at me.

"She crossed dimensions." Suddenly, everyone gets real quiet. The children stop giggling and climbing on Larkin, his Mother stops bouncing the baby. Even the crickets are silent.

"Impossible." She breathed into the silent night. "It's been hundreds of years…" She blinked, breaking the silence. "We need to get inside. Someone will see her and I'd guess you're not ready to share her just yet." At the mention of "sharing me" Larkin closes the distance between us, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.

Inside it's small and cozy. There's a wood stove burning in the corner. It's got a pot full of brown colored liquid towards the front and sizzling meat towards the back. There's a huge wooden table that looked hand made in the center of the room. I can now see where the smell of blood was coming from; there was a huge slaughtered deer laying on the table.

Larkin saw me staring at it, and let go of my hand to grab it and throw it over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "Sorry…" He mutters, and steps out the front door for a moment before coming back deerless. Only now the front of his shirt is drenched in blood.

I don't say anything, and step around to the other side of the table. Most of the children stayed outside to catch the glowing bugs. It's just Larkin, his mother, and me.

And it's very tense.

His mother is staring at him, and he's staring at me, and I'm staring at the blood on his shirt.

"Are you hungry?" His mother finally asks. I don't know who's she's asking, but both Larkin and I shake our heads at the same time. I can tell we both just want to be alone together. "Larkin, can I speak to you in my room, please?" She grabs his wrist, and even though he's got like two feet on her, she pulls him off to the side through a doorway. She reminds me of my mother, and that makes my throat close up with sadness and homesickness.

I continue looking around the kitchen, trying to ignore the whispers coming from his Mother's room.

"You know about Ethan…" I scrunched up my nose at the tidbit of words I had heard and shook my head. I don't think I wanted to know what they were talking about.

The table was set, it was obvious I had interrupted dinner. I made my way over to the stove and could see about a dozen pieces of meat cooking, and the liquid appeared to be soup with green bits floating around in it. Next to the stove was a tall countertop with hack marks from a knife that was sitting there too. It was sharp and long, made from a cream colored substance that I chose to not believe was bone.

"Are you tired?" Larkin's voice made me jump.

I stare at him, ignoring his angry looking eyes and his even angrier looking mother who was hovering behind him. I don't say anything, I just nod.

He nods his head toward his bedroom, which I remember being just off from the kitchen. "Tell the children if any of them bother us I will skin them alive." He spits at his mother who has busied herself with stirring the pot.

I furrow my brow at his sudden hostile attitude, but he can't mean it… can he? What if I just crossed dimensions for someone I didn't even know? The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. What if I didn't even like him? What if he farted in his sleep, or picked his nose or chewed with his mouth open?

But I knew all of those things were just that annoying little voice in my mind that had been trying to convince me to turn around and go home since the day I left my mother.

I remembered being in his room before, but now it looked different. Bigger, more real. I eyed his bed for a moment, but decided against it. Instead I moved to the center of the room and stood with my arms crossed and ankles touching.

I watched as he shut the door and pulled a piece of wood down to sit in a latch perfectly. I assumed that was his version of locking the door.

He turned to me and stared. I stared back. For a good thirty seconds, we stared at each other.

And then I started crying.

Hie eyes widened and he ran a hand through his thick black hair, and looked visibly uncomfortable. The sight of such a big, strong man so uncomfortable made me start giggling, which confused him even more, which made me laugh harder.

"What's happening right now?" He finally asks, taking a step towards me. Then my eye catches sight of his bloody shirt, and more tears began streaming down my face.

I think he saw he eyeing his bloody shirt, because he peels it off and throws it in the corner of the room.

And then I'm done crying, and I'm busy admiring his body. It's fucking nice.

He's got the "V" (as my mother always called it) carving into his pant line, and a very solid looking torso. His shoulders were wide, but not overly so. His arms were round and defined, trailing down to his very huge hands. His chest was covered in dark lines that ran to his back.

"You're really hot." I say, hiccuping. I cover my mouth, and feel my cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. "I just meant you have a very nice…" I trail off, motioning to his huge figure. I look down to his feet, which are at least a size sixteen and a very dirty thought pops into my head.

I squeal out loud, and turn around, hiding my face. This is not going how I want it to. I think, tears crawling into the corners of my eyes again.

"Delilah your emotions are all over the place." He's closer to me now, but still keeping his distance. "You've gone from kissing me, to scared, to sad, to laughing, and now I think you're back to wanting to kiss me." This last part he whispers into my ear, his sweet smelling breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck.

"It's been a long day." I finally say, my shoulders sagging from the truth of my statement. I had tramped through the woods in some backwoods town, swam through a fucking pond portal, made out with a stranger, been ridiculed by his kind of bitchy mother, and now I was standing here wondering if the myth about foot size was true.

"What would you like to do?" He asks me, wrapping his arms around me. "We could talk, sleep, whatever would make you happy."

I think for a moment.

A million questions are burning in my brain. Like what was a dream hopper? What happened when my mother came here? Now, when we're alone with nobody to bother us would be the perfect time to ask him everything I've been thinking about these past few days.

But my body is overpowering my mind.

I turn around, standing on my tippy toes to reach his lips. My hands are trembling a little with fear of what I want. He picks up on my mood quickly, and pulls away to look at me for confirmation. I smile, nod, and go back in for a kiss. As soon as he's sure of what I'm after, he grabs my butt with both hands and picks me up. He turns and pushes me against the wall, and I tighten my grip around his torso with my legs.

He pushes my hair to the side and begins kissing my neck, making me breathe his name. This seems to get a rise out of him, because he's making that growling noise again and throwing me onto his bed.

He steps out of his pants, and I realize he's not a fan of underwear. I gulp, and flush at the thought that the myth might just be true.

"Larkin…" I whisper as gently tugs at my shorts. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" He asks. I don't think he's paying a lot of attention. He's on his knees now, and has taken off my shoes. He kisses each toe, which is surprisingly stimulating. "I'm a virgin." I say, laying back, and covering my face. "I've never even kissed anyone." I whisper. I can feel my face glowing with embarrassment. He'll probably laugh at me, call me immature and a child. He'll tell me to go and catch glowing bugs with his siblings. He's quiet for a moment, and then crawls up to whisper in my ear.

"I'll be gentle." His soft voices sends shivers down my spine.

He sits me up only to take my shirt off, then lays me back down. He kisses my neck again, and begins kissing the entire length of my body, removing the last of my clothing as he goes. I feel embarrassed, and try and cover my stomach without him noticing. But he's too smart, and he sees. "You are perfect, Delilah." The way he says my name makes my toes tingle. But not as much as they tingle when he begins licking just under my belly button, slowly making his way down. My toes curl and I grab a handful of his hair as he finds the spot he was looking for.

"Larkin… I think I'm ready." I whisper, pulling him up to look at me.

"Okay." He looks at me as he positions himself above me and kisses me as he slowly slides inside me. It hurts, but it's a good kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that blossoms into pleasure throughout my entire body.

After that, I feel like I'm not even myself anymore. I'm saying things I've only heard in dirty movies, feeling things I never thought I'd get to feel. I feel dirty, and satisfied, and altogether happy.

We both finish, which surprises me because my mother used to tell me that I probably wouldn't have an orgasm until I bought my first sex toy.

He collapses beside me, sweat pooling on the surface of his skin.