It was almost noon when I awoke the morning after Prom, making me silently thank the man in the moon that it was a Saturday. Yawning, I started to stretch my tired muscles. My movement triggered another that I was not quite familiar with, and being in my half-dazed state, it took a moment to process the source of the motion under the blankets. I finally registered the warmth of an arm around my waist, five long fingers splayed against the bare expanse of my stomach that had been exposed by my shirt riding up in the middle of the night. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Pitch to be sound asleep behind me, his cheek pressed to the pillow and lips slightly parted. I turned a dark shade of pink as memories from the night before came flooding back to me.

Prom night, dancing with Jason, humiliating him, returning home, Pitch, the ballroom, Pitch dancing with me, our kiss, our confessions of love, kissing again, coming home. The last thing I remembered was climbing into bed, curling against Pitch's side, and falling asleep with the Nightmare King's arm around me. It all hit me at once. Still, I couldn't help the happiness that had formed a halo around my heart. I wondered what Pitch and I were now. We both admitted we loved one another and wanted to be together, but did the Boogeyman consider me to be his girlfriend now? Or his lover? I suppose what we called one another didn't matter, but still, having a clear understanding of this would make things a little bit easier. For the moment though, knowing that Pitch and I shared each other's feelings was enough.

Not wanting to wake my friend, I waited to move until I felt him shift behind me. The Nightmare King had scooted closer to me, his hand softly stroking the skin of my tummy now. I could feel that he had discarded his long robe, the wiry muscles of his chest pressed against my bare shoulders. I shifted, feeling ticklish, and Pitch sat up a little bit to look at my face. He had awoken fully, looking moderately alarmed as he noticed we were in the same bed.

Then, he must've recounted the events of the past twenty four hours as well, as he visibly relaxed and grinned. "You look glorious in the morning light, my love." He complimented me, resting against the sheets with one arm behind his head. "You do too, Pitch. You seem comfy..." I commented, readjusting in the bed so that I was lying partially on his chest. I folded my hands under my chin and stared at the man before me, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. "Oh, believe me, I am. I haven't slept on something so comfortable in years." He exaggerated the final word of his sentence, one of his hands moving to rest on the small of my back. The Boogeyman rubbed small circles over my spine, growing silent for a brief moment. "Tell me something," He began, casting his eyes on my own. "Anything," I replied, waiting for his inquiry. "Did you truly mean what you said, yesterday evening. Do you really...love...me? I won't blame you if it was simply a statement mentioned on a whim...If you wish to never see me again, I would understand." The way Pitch was looking at me made it hard to miss the seriousness of his question. He was genuinely concerned about my feelings surrounding him.

I couldn't help but gawk at the Guardian of Fear. "Kozmotis Pitchiner, I meant every word I said to you last night. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. I think part of me always has. When I kissed you last night, I knew I was taking a chance, but it was not an action that stemmed from an overload of emotion." I reassured him, though he still appeared doubtful. "Do you really love me?" I turned the question on him. His hand on my back pressed down possessively, and his eyes flashed pointedly. "Of course. More than I probably should." The Nightmare King murmured. His admission made me smile even wider, cuddling closer to the man. "Then it's settled then." Pitch nodded, "Yes, I suppose it is." He agreed. I took a deep breath, content to stay there forever. Life had other plans though. "Anara! Lunch!" I heard my mother's voice calling out to me from downstairs.

Grunting, I started to move to let her know that I had heard her, even though my body greatly disapproved of the idea. Apparently, Pitch wasn't keen on it either, because his grip on my body tightened a bit in a silent protest. I glanced at him in confusion. "Don't leave. I wish to stay like this with you for the day." He finally told me. My heart melted in response to his confession. "I want to stay, but we both know she will worry if I ignore her or pretend I am sick. Tell you what, let me go eat lunch and then you can have my undivided attention for the rest of the day, save for dinner. Mom's got a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so we can't do much together today anyway. Plus, my feet are still killing me from all the dancing last night." I explained, sitting up fully. Pitch groaned but nodded, rolling back onto his back.

My eyes scanned over his torso for a minute, unabashedly staring at the smooth grey skin covering his lean frame. I had never actually seen his bare chest. I had to admit, his years as a general had done his body good. Pitch smirked, noticing my stare, but made no move to shift my attention. "Anara!" My mother was closer now. Forcing myself to my feet, I got out of the bed and proceeded toward the door. I looked over my shoulder as I went to leave the room, finding that Pitch was playing with Obsidian, the Nightmare galloping across my bed. "I am claiming this mattress as mine." Pitch teased when he saw me still watching him. "As long as you keep my place warm, you can claim whatever you want." I joked back, casting him a wink. "Is that a promise?" The Boogeyman pressed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, walking out of the room and closing the door behind me. As I strode away, I could hear Pitch cackling in my room, amused by my reaction.

The lunch my mother had prepared for us had been simple, a light tomato basil soup and grilled cheese sandwiches that took me back to my early childhood. Together, we sat at the kitchen table and discussed the night before; everything concerning Jason, at least. She was still furious about what he had done, but respected my wishes to leave it be until the weekend was over. I had a feeling Jason would not be a problem anymore. She also told me that she had run my dress to the dry-cleaners for it to be washed, something I thanked her for adamantly. I asked her about what her plans were for the day, listening as she described a particularly hard presentation she was preparing for her office.

We parted ways when we finished eating, my mother heading to her work room, while I went back to my bedroom. I briefly debated whether or not I should change clothes if I was going to be laying in bed all day, but I decided I should freshen up a bit before rejoining my lover. I made a quick detour to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and hair so that I looked halfway decent. I had hung a thin violet tank top and black yoga shorts in the bathroom to dry the day before, so I grabbed them and changed into a fresh outfit. I examined my appearance one last time in the mirror before determining that I looked acceptable.

The Nightmare King was humming when I stepped back into my bedroom, his eyes shut against the sunlight threatening to peek through my sheer curtains. He cracked open one eye as the door creaked, smirking as I closed the entry behind me and slowly walked toward him. "So...what do you want to do today?" I began, pausing about a foot away from the side of the bed. Pitch raised an eyebrow at me, offering me his hand as he leaned across the mattress. "I want nothing more than to hold you close, as I've longed to do for some time now. I simply wish to spend time with you." He told me.

Smiling, I grasped his fingers within my own, climbing onto the bed with him. Pitch shifted back, pulling back the covers for me to slide under them. The sheets were surprisingly warm when I laid down beside Pitch. "You did keep it warm for me." I teased, snuggling into the heated space he had been occupying. The Boogeyman laughed lightly, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his body. The tender care he had been expressing to me since we had woke up was somewhat out of character for him, and I made a point of mentioning it. "I'm not complaining, Pitch, but you're strangely affectionate today." I remarked, curling my own arm around his side. "Do you wish for me to stop?" Came an uncertain reply. I shook my head, "No, not if you don't want to. I actually rather enjoy this..." I admitted, breathing in his familiar scent.

Pitch's fingers drew lazy patterns over my back, relieving the tension in my shoulders. "Good. If I am being honest, I don't understand why I am so positive today. Perhaps it is because I have longed for this closeness for a very long time, to be loved by someone and believed in. It is all quite strange to me." He paused, looking off into the distance. "I did not believe you could love me, that you could open your heart to a monster such as myself." The Nightmare King added.

Stretching my neck, I moved to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw. "I thought the same about you. But here we are..." I reminded him, then added, "And I am happier with you, right now, than I have been my entire life." Pitch squeezed me softly, telling me he felt the same. "May I court you, Anara Rose?" He whispered into my hair. My heartbeat fluttered within my chest. I leaned away to meet Pitch's gaze evenly. "You didn't even need to ask, my love. Of course." I blushed as the words tumbled from my mouth. My lover's eyes gleamed with mischief and adoration. "I must be the luckiest being in the world. Forget the Guardians and their pesky children...you are the only thing I desire..." Pitch's lips brushed over my ear as he spoke, sending a shiver running down my spine.

The hours passed slowly, Pitch and I sharing light conversation and loving caresses. So much had changed in such a short time, but both of us were enjoying our afternoon together. Eventually, I rolled over and faced away from the Boogeyman, growing too hot from the combination of blankets and body heat. I kicked my leg out of the covers and over the side of the bed to cool off. "You always used to be scared of doing that, you know." Pitch commented, playing with my fingers absentmindedly. I nodded in response, mentally comparing the size difference between our hands. His nearly doubled mine in length. "You believed that a monster or demon would grab your exposed foot and drag you under your bed, into the depths of the unknown." He hissed playfully, nudging my ankle with his own foot. "I remember...that was a long time ago. What is my greatest fear now, Pitch?" Even I didn't know the true answer to the question I posed. But Pitch had bragged about his ability to know everyone's greatest fears when we had first started to get to know one another. The Nightmare King stilled, growing silent. I waited for his response with bated breath.

I swallowed a growing lump in my throat. "You fear...losing those you love." He finally replied. "Your mother, Jade, Artemis, Aphrodite...and...me..." He sounded genuinely surprised with the last part.. "It is a common fear, but yours is...heightened...somehow. Stronger." Pitch explained, his tone revealing his own interest in the concept. I shivered, wondering why my fear was so much more prominent than anyone else's. It reminded me of the light factor Pitch had informed me of when I saw myself on his belief globe.

Distracting me from my internal questioning, the Boogeyman cuddled closer to me, curling his fingers around mine tightly. "I feel your anxiety growing, my pretty nightflower, and while the rush is...exhilarating for me...I do not wish for you to worry. All will be alright, my dear." He reassured me. "Yeah, I know. As long as I'm with you, I can believe in that..." I told him. He chuckled, breath ghosting across my cheek, but fell silent soon after.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, the sun moving across the sky lazily by the time my mother called me for dinner. The meal was short but nice, the two of us quietly enjoying the flavors of the food before she went to continue working on her presentation.

By the time that evening fell on our household, Aphrodite was laying at the foot of my bed, playfully batting at Obsidian while Pitch and I read scary stories on my phone. After one particularly gruesome tale regarding a bullied girl having her revenge against her peers in a fashion that would make Stephen King himself proud, I noticed Pitch shifting uncomfortably. Rolling over to face him again, I examined his expression. Pitch furrowed his brow suddenly, as if deep in thought. I traced a finger along his cheek, drawing his attention to me once more. "Pitch? What's wrong?" I asked curiously.

The spirit's deep golden-silver eyes met mine. "I realized that those stupid children haven't paid for what they did to you, yet." He grumbled. I sighed, shrugging my shoulders before leaning in and kissing his nose. "Jokes on them. I have everything I wanted, thanks to you." I admitted shyly. Pitch smirked, "As much as your words mean to me, my love. I feel I must give them what they deserve...tonight...and every night following until they don't dare to sleep again." I gawked at Pitch, though I shouldn't have been surprised. He had grown increasingly protective of me as of late, and I supposed the shift in our relationship would only amplify this characteristic.

Slowly, the Nightmare King sat up and reached for his robe that was lying in a neat pile at the foot of my bed. He pulled on the soft cloak and got to his feet, stretching his long arms and popping his neck. When he turned to me again, he was holding out his hand. "Would you accompany me, my dear?" The Boogeyman asked. I raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't! You know my mother would flip if she came in to check on me and I wasn't here! Last night, she was exhausted and wouldn't have woken up. I can't guarantee we'll be that lucky again tonight." I reminded him.

Pitch gave me that sly grin of his, reaching into his robe pocket to produce a small black satchel. "Look at whom you are speaking with, darling." He replied, pouring some golden sand into his hand. It shimmered and glowed before suddenly fading to a sparkling black. My eyes widened in realization. "Dream sand! Of course!" I wanted to hit myself for being so stupid. "But Pitch! I don't want my mom to have nightmares all night!" I told him. He rolled his eyes playfully. "Well now, you've just forgotten how to have fun." He smirked. My mouth gaped open, before I snapped it shut and reached forward to grip the front of his shirt in my hand. "No fun, huh? I'm loads of fun, Mister." I argued. "Prove it." He whispered smugly, unphased by my movement. I leaned in close, our lips nearly touching, before moving back and pushing him away simultaneously.

I got off the bed and started walking toward the door. "You coming?" I inquired with a smirk. This time his mouth was hanging open, surprised by my teasing nature. He got up, striding over quickly and pulling me into his arms once more, capturing my lips in a kiss. When he pulled away, he smiled softly. "You proved your point." He whispered. "Rather quickly, I'm surprised to say." I joked, grinning back. Pitch rolled his eyes, pulling me toward the shadowed corner of the room.

The pair of us passed through the thin wall, emerging on the other side in my mother's home office. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room, my gaze fell on a slumped over figure sitting at the desk. My mother had her arms out in front of her, crossed over a decently large pile of paperwork; her cheek was resting on her arms limply. Small snoring sounds came from her mouth, her back rising and falling slowly with every deep breath. "This will be easier than I thought..." Pitch whispered, slinking forward and opening the miniature satchel he had been carrying. He glanced at me as if asking permission, which led me to nod at him silently.

The Nightmare King tilted the pouch a bit, careful not to touch the pure golden dream sand as it poured from the opening and sprinkled over my mother's sleeping figure. The dust faded away, dissipating rapidly in the air around us. My mother's snoring deepened and she went completely limp. I watched a sandy wolf form over her head, running in small circles around her sleeping form.

Pitch snorted and stepped away, whistling lowly for his horse. It was a sound I had heard him make often, recognizable to my ears now. A rush of sand poured into the room from beneath the cracked window, forming a large pile on the floor that quickly shifted into the shape of a familiar black steed. Onyx stamped her hooves impatiently, waiting for Pitch and I to mount her. Pitch lifted me up onto the horse's back like he normally did, climbing up behind me and urging Onyx to move. Onyx tossed her head from side to side, then began trotting toward the shadowy corner of the room. She stepped through it daintily, striding into the outdoors.

The Nightmare shot into the air as soon as she touched the grass, galloping into the midnight sky. For about five blocks, Onyx pounded over my neighbors' houses, nearly skating across the shingled rooftops. When we arrived above the chimney of a tall beige home, Pitch pulled back on the Nightmare's reigns to slow her down and guide her around the side of the home. She hovered near a small second story window, peering into the darkened room, her glowing eyes reflecting against a clear glass pane. "This is the boy's home..." The Nightmare King growled from over my shoulder. "That wretched child who couldn't fathom refusal." He continued, tone expressing the fury he had kept brewing inside of him from the night before. I realized it was Jason's house we were hovering next to, and his bedroom was on the other side of the window. I had been purposefully avoiding it for the past year since our break up, trying to keep from getting involved in more conflict. I was surprised I hadn't immediately recognized it.

The Nightmare King squinted his eyes to look into the bedroom, a devilish smirk splitting his face. "Oh goodie...he's fast asleep. It's showtime, my dear." Pitch stated, steering Onyx toward the window. We cleared it like there was no barrier whatsoever, entering the bedroom. A resounding snoring sound hit my ears as soon as we arrived at the foot of Jason's bed, the noise reminiscent of a freight train. The jock was stretched out on his back, sprawled across the entirety of his bed. His room had not changed since the last time we had hung out in there together.

Posters of half-naked women covered the walls, petite models whose skin clung to their bones like skeletons in every area of their body except their busts and butts. A computer was open on a small desk against the wall, the screensaver flashing pictures from a popular game he played, and a fan circulated the air in the room in an effort to mask the smell of dirty laundry and plates of food that littered the room. Looking around, I wondered how I could've tolerated being in a room so cluttered and disgusting. Perhaps it was never this bad, or perhaps I was always so infatuated with him that I never noticed.