I try to stay in the dream but eventually, reality entrenches on my fantasy. Lush lips disappear and a breeze of morning air cools my cheeks. It's quiet and peaceful under the covers, but also lonely. The spot next to me is empty. Of course it is, because whatever happened in my head was just a dream. Even though the covers do smell wonderfully of roses and raindrops.

As I crawl from underneath soft blankets, my pillow falls from the bed. A wilted bouquet of seven flowers comes with it, flattened by the weight of my head. So I did follow my grandma's words, picking seven flowers on the midsummer night. But does that mean the dream will come true as well?

Dressed in only an old t-shirt, because who cares about pants out here in the woods, I make my way out of the bedroom. Birdsong greets me as I step out on the cold stone stairs, worn by generations of bare feet. It appears I am alone. Rebecka, Johan, and Erik must have left. Fadime must have left as well. My sleep-drowsy head can't remember everything that happened the night before.

Walking into the leafed alcove outside, where I usually have my breakfast, I'm surprised to see fresh flowers on the table. It's not the small bouquet of wilted flowers from last night but rather a blossoming cornucopia of colors. I stare at the flowers, which must have been picked this very morning when a voice surprises me from behind.

"Good morning, Viola." Fadime strokes her fingers against the small of my back as she passes by. In her other hand, she balances a bowl of strawberries. "I was just by the water pump, washing these off," she explains. "I figured we could have them for breakfast, with some yogurt perhaps."

I lean into the embrace, placing a peck on her cheek. Reality and dream are still inseparable in my head, but what is important is that she's here. She, and no one else.

"Where are... the others?" I stutter, sitting down.

"Don't you remember?" Fadime asks, tapping my arm softly. "You asked them to leave after we came back from picking flowers."

I nod, vague memories of harsh words flashing by. But the sweet memories from the woods sing louder and clearer. Whatever happened out there, whether it was a dream or reality, changed something in me. I know what I want now. And I know how to assert that will.

I lean toward Fadime, stroking wisps of wild hair away from her face before placing my lips on hers.

I want her.

The End