Dreams (Karen/Frank)
Dreams + Kastle
Her dreams are like cotton candy, sweet and fluffy, dissolving in seconds, a desperate taste of something heavenly that haunts her for days.
They’re unrealistic little slices of a possible future that leave her feeling like the most naive fool on the planet.
She should actively try and make them stop, accept that those nights spent locked in the soft embrace of her deadly lover are the only thing she’ll ever have with Frank.
But she can’t, because dreams filled with his smile, his rumbling laugh, with children that have her wavy blonde hair and his dark eyes, don’t feel so much like dreams as much as they do hopeful premonitions.
And as much as the world tries, it can’t stamp out the hope that lives in Karen’s soul, the hope she feels when he pulls her close in the night.