In my dream, Brandon was a prince from Candyland, his whole body made of sweets. His arms were chocolate, his fingers were vanilla cookies, and his lips were strawberry candy.
I accidentally crossed into his country and couldn't believe they were all candy people.
He extended his arm and let me take a bite.
I looked at him suspiciously, hesitated, and then bit down.
It was really chocolate-flavored.
I stepped back and stared at him.
What's this, good enough to eat?
He said, "Do you believe me now?"
I said, "I don't believe it unless you let me take another bite."
He said, "Okay, where do you want to bite?"
I acted like a hooligan, hugged his neck, and took a bite of his lips.
Why isn't it strawberry flavor?
"Hiss!"
Brandon pushed me away.
"Did you take your temperature?"
I heard someone calling outside and opened my eyes drowsily.
Brandon was propped up above me, with flushed cheeks and wet lips, as if he had just been bitten.
What the hell? I thought.
Right now, I just wanted to explode on the spot, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.
He calmly got up and pulled my arm out from under the blanket.
The electronic thermometer beeped.
37.1°C.
He was left speechless.