A Daffodil Memoir (part three)

    I lay in bed tightly woven as a caterpillar in a cocoon. The room, dark as the midnight's coffee. The windows, laced with the shadows of howling trees. My mind, drenched with the thoughts of worry. A clock soon ticked to ease the silence. Ticking as though it were impatient. Louder with every chime. As though it had a destination in mind, but stood behind bars. Finally, a loud thump, and the ticking ceased. I trembled in my sheets, shaking as a mountain watching his stone being chipped away. Again, silence.
    For only a moment.
    "Leo?" I stammered.
    No answer.
    Only the sound of breathing. Breathing. Faster, and faster.
    "Who is there?"
    My voice only entered an empty void of air and aura. I rotated my head side to side, my heart gaining speed. A bird taking flight in the morning. Fighting the moonlight.
    Just then, as I sat up holding a blanket to my chest, a voice stood above everything else in the room and spoke to me within my mind. This voice, deep and arousing, told me to get up. I obeyed. Tossing the blankets to the floor, watching my feet crawl off the bed, and hit the floor. Not even reacting to the cold wood below them. I looked down to my feet, mesmerized by this gentle voice inside my mind. I took a step. Than another. Soon the front door was before me. And before I had a chance to even raise my hand, the door creaked open, as though it had a heart to do so.
    I stepped outside, nude and untouched, onto the freezing cobblestone path. I took a step. Than another.
    I knew not where I was headed, but I can now remember every inch of path covered on that night. A path made only by myself and the one who led me.
    My body seemed to endlessly drift. Every motion so equal to the last. The fog around me thickening as the trees grew closer and closer together. A cave of a forest with animals unseen. Toads croaked, and every so often an owl made its call on the night air. The tangled roots under my feet seemed to grab at my toes, just as the cold air nipped at my skin. I shivered unknowingly, releasing warm air out of my frozen lips. Covered in ice, dripping down my body.
    "Reach out to me," The voice spoke, as it lingered somewhere in the distance. "Take my hand."
    I ceased all movement in but a moment. Frantically looking about the area in distress as my mind caught up to me. The ice crackled off my lips into powder, floating on the wind as blue butterflies in spring.    
    "Who are you?" Though, as I asked, I realized I didn't much care who or what it was, all I knew is that I wanted to be near it. To taste it. To hear it. To be with it in the darkness that fell around us. At this decision, I outstretched my arms into the mist, hoping to find a warm hand in mine. Only seconds went by, when I felt soft fingers in my palm. Slowly, the fingers encircled my hand with warmth, with all the passion nature could gather. Chills were sent down my spine for I had never felt such temptation. The mysterious hand was then joined by another, and like a waterfall, they rushed down my body, caressing my breasts, my skin, with such enchantment, I was in ecstasy.
    The strong hands wrapped themselves around my back, feeling every curve, before pulling me up against a lonely chest.
    My breath went cold as he carried me through the mist. The touch of his hands on my body both calmed and disturbed me. His skin like glaciers gliding over my glistening body. Powerful, beautiful. And it left me wanting him in a way I have never wanted anything.