belle

you don’t usually remember your dreams.

most mornings they disappear before you even sit up. just vague shapes and the feeling that something happened while you were asleep. nothing clear enough to think about.

this one stays.

you’re standing somewhere that feels familiar but also not. maybe a grocery store. maybe a convenience shop. the lights are that weird bright kind that make everything look slightly too clean. you’re holding a basket but you can’t remember picking anything up.

someone laughs behind you.

you turn around and it’s him.

not in a dramatic way. not like a movie moment where music swells and everything slows down. he’s just… standing there like he’s supposed to be there. like you both accidentally ended up in the same aisle.

you recognise him after a second.

joe keery.

you’ve seen stranger things before, obviously. most people have. but you wouldn’t call yourself a fan or anything. you don’t follow him online. you don’t watch interviews. if someone asked you what he’d been in besides that show you probably couldn’t answer.

still, it’s definitely him.

his hair’s a little messy, like he just ran his hands through it too many times. he’s holding a bag of chips and reading the back of it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

then he looks up and notices you staring.

“what?” he says, half smiling.

you immediately look away.

“nothing” you mumble, suddenly aware you’re standing in the middle of the aisle like an idiot.

when you glance back he’s still looking at you. not in a weird way. more like he’s trying to remember something.

“do i know you?” he asks.

you shake your head.

“no.”

he squints slightly, like he’s not convinced, but then he shrugs and tosses the chips into his basket.

“huh.”

and that’s it.

the dream kind of… dissolves after that.

no big ending. no weird plot twist. just the feeling of walking past him and hearing the automatic doors slide open.

you wake up staring at your ceiling.

it’s still dark outside and your room is quiet except for the low hum of your fan.

for a second you just lie there, trying to piece together what you just dreamed about.

“that was weird” you mutter to yourself.

it’s not the strangest dream you’ve ever had. people dream about celebrities all the time. your brain probably just pulled his face from somewhere random.

maybe you scrolled past something about him earlier. maybe someone mentioned stranger things.

your brain does dumb stuff like that.

still, the dream felt… oddly normal.

like you had just run into someone you vaguely knew at the store.

you grab your phone from the nightstand and check the time.

3:17 am.

after a minute you roll over and close your eyes again.

by morning you’ve mostly forgotten about it.

-

across the city, someone else wakes up too.

joe sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

his apartment is quiet except for the distant sound of traffic outside the window. he glances at the clock on the wall.

3:17 am.

“weird” he murmurs.

he had a dream.

he doesn’t usually remember them either, but this one stuck around just enough to be annoying.

there was a grocery store.

or maybe a convenience store.

he was reading the back of a bag of chips when he noticed someone staring at him.

you.

he can remember your face clearly. which is strange, because usually dream faces are kind of blurry. like extras in the background of a movie.

but yours wasn’t.

he frowns slightly, trying to place you.

an old friend? someone from high school? a fan he met once?

nothing clicks.

“do i know you?” he mutters, repeating the line he said in the dream.

the memory fades before he can think about it too hard.

joe shrugs it off and falls back onto the pillow.

people have weird dreams all the time.

it doesn’t mean anything.

still, when he falls asleep again, your face lingers in the back of his mind longer than it should.

-

the next time it happens you don’t even realise you’re dreaming at first.

you’re lying on a couch. that’s the first thing you notice. your cheek is pressed into a pillow and there’s a soft blanket half thrown over you. the room is dim except for the light from a tv somewhere in front of you, the kind that flickers against the walls.

there’s an arm around your waist.

you don’t question it immediately. it just feels normal. comfortable in the way things only feel when you’ve been somewhere long enough that you stop noticing the details.

then you hear his voice.

“you’re gonna fall asleep again.”

you shift slightly and look up.

it’s him.

joe keery.

he’s leaning back into the couch, one arm around you, the other holding the remote loosely. his thumb taps the buttons like he’s trying to find something worth watching.

for some reason this doesn’t feel weird.

in the dream it makes sense. like this is just what happens on a random night when you’re both too tired to do anything else.

“i’m not asleep” you mumble.

he glances down at you, clearly not believing that.

“you were out like five seconds ago.”

“i was resting my eyes.”

he laughs quietly at that, the kind of laugh that happens automatically. like he’s heard that excuse before.

you shift a little closer into him without thinking. his arm tightens slightly around you like it’s second nature.

the tv keeps playing something neither of you are really paying attention to.

there’s nothing dramatic happening. just the quiet background noise of the show and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

it feels weirdly real.

you notice small things. the warmth of the blanket. the way his fingers absently tap against your arm. the faint smell of laundry detergent on his hoodie.

after a minute he looks down at you again.

“you’re staring” he says.

“no i’m not.”

“yeah you are.”

you don’t answer that. you just look away toward the tv, pretending you care about whatever’s on the screen.

he nudges you slightly with his shoulder.

“if you fall asleep again i’m not carrying you to bed.”

“you’ve literally never carried me anywhere” you say.

he pauses.

“that’s not true.”

you turn your head toward him.

“when?”

he thinks for a second like he’s trying to remember.

“okay, maybe i’m remembering wrong.”

you roll your eyes a little and settle back against him.

it’s quiet again after that.

comfortable quiet.

and that’s the part that makes it strange later. because nothing about it feels like a dream while you’re there. it feels like something that’s been happening for a long time already.

like this is just another normal night.

you wake up staring at your ceiling again.

for a few seconds you don’t move.

then you sit up slowly.

“okay,” you say out loud to your empty room. “what the fuck.”

your heart’s beating a little faster than it should be and you rub your face with both hands like that’ll reset your brain.

it was so vivid.

not just seeing him. feeling things. the couch. the blanket. his arm around you.

you drop back onto the pillow and stare at the ceiling again.

“why him” you mutter.

it would make more sense if it was someone you actually liked or followed or something. but you barely think about joe keery. he’s just some actor from a show you watched a while ago.

eventually you get up and go about your day.

by the afternoon the weirdness has faded a little, but it’s still sitting in the back of your head.

so later you call your friend.

you don’t even bring it up seriously. you’re half laughing already when you start explaining it.

“i keep having dreams about joe keery,” you say.

there’s a pause on the other end of the phone.

then she bursts out laughing.

“the guy from stranger things?”

“yes.”

“are you secretly obsessed with him or something?”

“no,” you say immediately. “that’s the weird part. i literally never think about him.”

she’s still laughing.

“what happened in the dream?”

you hesitate for a second.

“we were… dating i think.”

that just makes her laugh harder.

“oh my god.”

“it wasn’t like that,” you protest. “we were literally just sitting on a couch.”

“sure.”

“i’m serious.”

you end up laughing too because the whole thing does sound ridiculous when you say it out loud.

“your brain just picked a random celebrity,” she says once she calms down. “it happens. i once dreamed i was married to the guy from the hunger games.”

“which one?”

“exactly.”

you shake your head even though she can’t see you.

“yeah, okay. fair.”

by the time the call ends you’ve mostly convinced yourself it’s nothing.

just a weird dream.

your brain doing random brain things.

-

joe is sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of coffee he forgot to drink.

he’s been staring at the same spot on the counter for a few minutes.

because he had the dream again.

this time it wasn’t a grocery store.

it was a couch.

you were curled up next to him like it was completely normal. like you’d done it a hundred times before.

he can still remember the warmth of you curled up in front of him.

which is… strange.

dreams don’t usually feel like that.

he runs a hand through his hair and exhales slowly.

“where the hell have i seen you” he mutters.

your face is stuck in his head again. clear enough that it’s annoying.

so he starts trying to figure it out.

maybe you’re an actor he saw in something recently. maybe his brain just recycled a face from a movie.

he grabs his phone and starts scrolling through the last few things he watched.

cast lists.

photos.

names he vaguely recognises.

nothing.

no one looks like you.

after a while he drops the phone onto the table and leans back in the chair.

“okay,” he says to the empty kitchen. “so you’re not real.”

that’s the only explanation that makes sense.

his brain just made you up.

a completely random face.

still, when he closes his eyes for a second, he can picture you perfectly. the way you looked up at him from the couch like the two of you had known each other forever.

joe frowns slightly.

because fake or not, it didn’t feel like a dream either

-

a few weeks pass before it starts feeling normal.

not normal exactly, but expected.

the dreams keep happening. not every night, but often enough that you stop waking up in a panic about it. sometimes you’re in random places together. a kitchen, a street corner, sitting on the floor of some apartment that your brain apparently invented. other times it’s small things. watching tv. walking somewhere. talking about nothing important.

they always feel the same though.

like you’ve stepped into the middle of a life that already exists somewhere else.

you stop telling your friend about them after the third or fourth time because she just laughs and asks if dream-joe is a good boyfriend.

eventually you start treating it like one of those weird brain glitches that just happens sometimes. something you’ll probably forget about in a month.

and most days you don’t think about it at all.

until one afternoon.

it’s one of those rare warm days where the air actually feels nice instead of sticky or cold. you had nothing better to do, so you ended up wandering around central park with a coffee in your hand and your headphones in.

you’re not really paying attention to where you’re going. just walking.

then you turn a corner on the path and walk straight into someone.

your shoulder bumps theirs hard enough that your coffee almost spills.

“shit-sorry” you say automatically, already looking down to check if you got coffee on anything.

“no, it’s-”

you look up.

and immediately freeze.

it’s him.

for a second your brain refuses to process what you’re seeing. like it’s lagging behind reality.

joe keery is standing directly in front of you.

not dream-joe. actual joe keery. same messy hair, same slightly confused expression he always seems to have in interviews you’ve seen clips of.

you don’t say anything.

you just stare.

because suddenly all those dreams you convinced yourself meant nothing are rushing back into your head at once.

the couch. the grocery store. all the little conversations.

this should be one of those moments where you maybe recognise a celebrity and then move on with your day.

but your brain is short-circuiting instead.

and the weirdest part is that he’s staring at you too.

not like someone who just got recognised by a stranger.

more like someone who just saw something impossible.

his eyebrows pull together slightly and he leans back half an inch like he needs a better look at you.

you open your mouth, about to say something, honestly you don’t even know what, but he speaks first.

“you’re my dream girl.”

the words come out fast, like he didn’t think about them before saying them.

you blink.

“…what?”

there’s a pause.

his face changes instantly when he realises what that sounded like.

“no- wait, that’s not-” he rubs the back of his neck, already laughing a little at himself. “that sounded insane.”

you’re still just standing there, half frozen, half trying not to laugh.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly. “i mean- i did, but not in a weird way.”

that just makes it worse.

you let out a short laugh before you can stop yourself.

“okay,” you say, still trying to process what’s happening.

he exhales and gestures vaguely between the two of you.

“i’ve been having these dreams,” he says. “and you’re in them. like… a lot.”

you stare at him.

he’s watching you carefully now, like he’s waiting for you to confirm that he’s completely lost his mind.

for a second you consider just pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about.

that would probably be the normal response.

instead you hear yourself say, “me too.”

he blinks.

“what?”

“the dreams,” you say, gesturing awkwardly. “i’ve been having them too.”

there’s a long pause.

people walk past you on the path like nothing weird is happening at all.

joe looks at you for another few seconds, like he’s checking for any sign that you’re joking.

then he laughs quietly, shaking his head.

“okay” he says.

you nod slowly.

“okay.”

another pause.

“so,” he says after a moment, “what the fuck is happening.”

you laugh again, mostly because there’s no other reaction that makes sense.

“i was hoping you knew.”

he shakes his head.

“nope.”

you both just stand there for a second, two strangers in the middle of central park who apparently know each other from somewhere that doesn’t exist.

and somehow that’s the least weird part of the situation.

you end up sitting on one of the benches a little off the main path.

neither of you really suggests it out loud. the conversation just kind of drifts that way because standing there in the middle of the walkway while people keep passing feels strange.

joe sits down first, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, still looking at you like he’s trying to line up the version of you in his head with the one sitting next to him.

“okay,” he says after a second. “so this is gonna sound insane.”

“i think we’re past that already” you say.

he lets out a quiet laugh at that.

“fair.”

for a minute you both just start comparing things.

the grocery store dream.

when you mention it he immediately nods. “the chips,” he says. “i was reading the back of them.”

you stare at him.

“yeah.”

he runs a hand through his hair, looking both relieved and more confused somehow.

“okay that’s… good. i mean not good, but at least i didn’t invent that part.”

then the couch.

you describe the tv flickering in the dark room and the blanket and how he kept saying you were about to fall asleep.

he leans back against the bench slowly.

“you said you were resting your eyes,” he says.

you look at him.

“yeah.”

for a second neither of you says anything.

people keep walking past on the path. someone’s dog barks somewhere nearby. everything around you feels normal except for the conversation you’re having.

“this is so weird” you say eventually.

“yeah” he agrees.

you go through a few more small details. little things that shouldn’t line up as well as they do. places, random conversations, things one of you said that the other remembers.

none of it makes any sense.

joe laughs under his breath at one point and shakes his head.

“i literally thought my brain made you up. i even checked cast lists from movies i watched recently,” he adds. “i was convinced i’d seen your face somewhere and my brain just recycled it.”

“that’s actually kind of insulting.”

“hey,” he says, holding up a hand slightly. “in my defense it was the only explanation i had.”

you smile a little.

after a while the conversation slows down. not because you’re done talking, but because you’ve both kind of reached the same conclusion.

there isn’t an explanation.

at least not one either of you knows.

joe checks his phone then and exhales slightly.

“i actually have to go in a minute,” he says. “i’m supposed to meet someone.”

“yeah, that’s fine,” you say. “this was already… a lot.”

you both stand up from the bench.

for a second it’s awkward again. like neither of you really knows how to end this interaction because it’s not exactly a normal situation.

joe scratches the back of his neck.

“well,” he says. “see you tonight.”

your brain freezes for a split second.

“what?”

your voice comes out sharper than you meant it to.

he notices immediately and laughs.

“no no- i didn’t mean-” he gestures vaguely between the two of you. “i mean in the dreams. you know. if this whole thing keeps happening.”

you exhale and laugh too, mostly out of relief.

“right.”

“that came out really weird.”

“a little bit, yeah.”

you both stand there smiling awkwardly for another second.

then he turns like he’s about to walk away.

he makes it about three steps before stopping.

“wait,” he says, turning back toward you.

you look up.

“is it weird if i ask for your number?”

he shrugs slightly, like he’s aware how strange the whole situation already is.

“i just feel like it’d be even weirder if we both walked away and… never talked again.”

you think about that for maybe half a second.

“yeah,” you say. “that would be pretty weird.”

so you exchange phones.

he types his number into your phone, glances at the screen to make sure he didn’t mess it up, then looks back up at you as you type your number into his.

“okay,” he says.

“okay.”

this time when he walks away he actually leaves.

you watch him disappear down the path for a second before turning and heading in the opposite direction, your brain still trying to process everything that just happened.

-

later that night your phone buzzes.

unknown number.

you open the message.

joe: Hi. Just confirming you’re a real person and i didn’t imagine the entire afternoon.

you stare at it for a second, then smile.

you: pretty sure i’m real.

three dots appear almost immediately.

joe: Good. That would’ve been awkward.

over the next few days the texts keep coming.

at first it’s mostly about the dreams.

whether either of you had one the night before. what happened in it. if anything new showed up.

sometimes the dreams match. sometimes they’re slightly different versions of the same thing.

but the conversation slowly starts drifting into normal territory too.

what you do for work.

the dumb shows you both watch when you’re bored.

random things about your days.

it’s strange at first, texting someone you technically just met but somehow also feel like you’ve known for weeks.

but the more you talk, the less weird it feels.

and eventually the dreams aren’t the only reason you’re looking forward to seeing his name pop up on your phone.

-

slowly the conversations stop being about dreams at all.

he sends you pictures of random things he sees during the day. a dog that looked like it had human eyebrows. a coffee he swears was the worst thing he’s ever tasted. once he sends you a blurry picture of a movie poster and asks if you’ve seen it because he’s considering watching it out of boredom.

you send him things too. screenshots of stupid conversations, songs you think he’d like, pictures of the sky when it looks weirdly orange in the evening.

after a while you actually start meeting up sometimes.

the first time is casual. just coffee, because it feels like the easiest option. neither of you says anything about the dreams at first. you talk about normal stuff instead and realise pretty quickly that conversation with him is… easy.

easier than you expected.

he’s quieter in person than you imagined he’d be, but in a relaxed way. like he’s just comfortable letting things be quiet sometimes.

you end up sitting there for almost two hours without noticing.

after that you hang out again.

and again.

sometimes it’s just grabbing food somewhere. sometimes you end up walking around the city for no real reason. once you both end up sitting on the floor of his living room because he insists a movie is so bad it’s good and you need to see it.

it’s not really a big dramatic friendship moment. it just happens naturally.

you start realising little things too.

the two of you think about things in really similar ways. you both have the same habit of noticing small, random details in places. you both laugh at things that probably aren’t that funny to anyone else.

he teases you about certain things. you tease him back.

it feels… familiar.

sometimes a little too familiar.

every once in a while one of you brings up the dreams again, but they’ve become less frequent. you both notice that.

neither of you really questions it though.

until one night when you’re lying in bed and it hits you.

you like him.

not just in a he’s fun to hang out with way.

in the way where you catch yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. in the way where you start noticing the small things about him you didn’t think about before. the way he pushes his hair back when he’s concentrating on something. the way he laughs when he forgets what he was about to say halfway through a sentence.

you stare at the ceiling for a long time after that realization.

“oh,” you mutter quietly to yourself.

because suddenly a lot of things make sense.

and then something else hits you.

you haven’t had one of the dreams in days.

you frown slightly, trying to remember the last time it happened.

a week maybe. maybe longer.

it’s strange. for a while they were happening all the time.

now nothing.

at first you assume it’s just random.

but the longer you think about it, the more it feels like the dreams just… stopped.

like something finished.

like whatever weird thing connected the two of you had done its job already.

and now the rest is up to you.

you shake your head a little at the thought because it sounds ridiculous when you say it in your own head.

still, you can’t help thinking about it.

-

around the same time, joe is sitting on his couch staring at his phone.

your last message is still open on the screen.

you’d sent him a picture of a weird looking sandwich from some café and said is this gonna kill me?

he’s been smiling at it for longer than necessary.

after a second he leans back into the couch and exhales slowly.

because he realised something a little while ago too.

he likes you.

in the kind of way that makes him notice when a few hours pass without hearing from you.

in the kind of way where he catches himself thinking about what you’d say about something before he even texts you about it.

he figured it out maybe a week ago.

and around that same time, something else happened.

the dreams stopped.

completely.

the first couple nights he thought it was just a break.

but after a while it became obvious.

they were gone.

joe had thought about mentioning it to you once or twice, but every time the conversation drifted somewhere else before he did.

and now he’s not sure if he should bring it up at all.

because the timing feels strange.

almost like the dreams disappeared right when they weren’t necessary anymore.

he shakes his head slightly at the thought, smiling to himself.

“that’d be convenient,” he mutters.

his phone buzzes again.

another message from you.

and just like that the thought disappears, replaced by the small, familiar feeling he gets every time your name lights up the screen.

neither of you has said anything about liking the other yet.

but somehow it already feels like you’re both standing in the same place, just waiting for someone to take the next step.

-

a few more weeks pass before anything actually changes.

things between you and joe already feel like they’ve settled into a rhythm by then. texting every day. seeing each other a few times a week. sometimes you plan it, sometimes one of you just ends up near the other and it turns into hanging out without either of you meaning for it to.

most people looking in from the outside would probably assume you were already dating.

but neither of you has actually said it.

so technically you’re still just… friends.

one evening you’re walking with him after grabbing dinner somewhere small and crowded. the kind of place where the tables are too close together and the music is a little too loud but the food is good enough that no one cares.

you’re halfway down the sidewalk when he suddenly slows down.

you notice and glance over.

“what?”

he looks like he’s thinking too hard about something. his hands are shoved into his jacket pockets and he’s staring straight ahead instead of at you.

“can i ask you something” he says.

you raise an eyebrow slightly.

“you just did.”

he lets out a short breath of a laugh, but he still looks nervous in a way you haven’t really seen before.

“okay, yeah.”

you keep walking slowly beside him, waiting.

after a few seconds he glances at you.

“do you want to go on a date with me.”

you stop walking for a second.

not because you’re surprised exactly, if anything you’ve both been circling around this moment for a while, but hearing him actually say it makes something warm settle in your chest.

“i thought we’d been doing that already” you say.

he groans quietly.

“that’s the problem. i can’t tell if we’re just hanging out or if i’ve accidentally been dating you for the past month.”

you smile.

“so this is you officially asking.”

“this is me officially asking.”

you watch him for a second. he looks hopeful, but also slightly braced like you might laugh at him.

you don’t.

“yeah,” you say. “i’d like that.”

the relief on his face is immediate and a little funny.

“okay,” he says, nodding once like he just solved something complicated.

you bump your shoulder into his as you start walking again.

“that wasn’t so hard.”

“you have no idea how long i’ve been trying to figure out when to ask.”

“seriously?”

“seriously.”

you laugh.

-

dating him doesn’t feel like starting something new.

it feels more like something just… settled into place.

the first real date is simple. dinner somewhere quieter this time, then a long walk after because neither of you is ready to end the night yet.

at one point you’re both standing at a crosswalk waiting for the light to change when he reaches for your hand without really thinking.

your fingers lace together automatically.

you both pause for half a second when you realise it happened.

then you just keep standing there like it’s normal.

and somehow it is.

there’s still that strange familiarity sometimes. like certain moments feel oddly recognisable, even when you know they’ve never actually happened before.

but it’s different now.

because this version is real.

you start learning things about him that the dreams never showed you.

the way he gets really invested in random documentaries and then spends twenty minutes explaining facts you never asked for.

the way he absentmindedly taps rhythms on the table when music is playing somewhere nearby.

the way he always forgets where he left his phone and then accuses you of hiding it even though it’s usually right next to him.

he learns things about you too.

how you automatically steal food off his plate even when you ordered your own. how you stop mid-sentence sometimes because you get distracted by something completely unrelated.

the more time you spend together, the more you both start noticing small things.

little ways the two of you just… fit.

one night you’re at his apartment and he comes back into the living room from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee.

he pauses when he sees you.

you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch flipping through the streaming options, and without asking you’ve already put on a show he mentioned liking weeks ago.

“what?” you ask when you notice him standing there.

he walks over slowly and hands you the mug.

“nothing.”

“looked like something.”

he sits down beside you.

“i mentioned this show once.”

you shrug.

“yeah.”

“like three weeks ago.”

“and?”

he shakes his head a little, smiling.

“nothing. just… impressive memory.”

you take a sip of the coffee and make a face.

“did you forget the sugar again?”

he looks down at his own mug.

“…maybe.”

you reach over automatically, taking his cup and grabbing a sugar packet off the table dropping it in before he even moves.

he watches you stir it once and hand it back.

it’s such a small thing that you don’t even think about it.

but joe does.

because moments like that keep happening.

you remember things he says without him repeating them. you suggest movies he was already thinking about watching. you pick the exact takeout place he was craving without him mentioning it first.

and he starts doing the same for you without really realising it.

like the way he started keeping the exact snacks you like in his kitchen after you mentioned them once. you only noticed because one day you opened the cupboard and they were just… there.

or the way he’ll send you songs randomly with a message like this reminded me of something you’d like and somehow he’s almost always right.

once, when you show up at his apartment after a long day, he opens the door holding one of his sweaters.

“felt like you'd want this” he says, handing it to you casually.

you blink at him.

“how did you even know i was cold?”

he shrugs.

“lucky guess.”

another time you’re both out walking and you stop mid-sentence because you’re distracted watching a dog across the street doing something ridiculous.

you turn back around and joe is already holding his phone up.

“knew you’d want a picture” he says.

none of it is dramatic.

just small things.

but they keep happening.

and the more joe notices them, the more a quiet thought keeps forming in the back of his mind.

how did i get this lucky.

one evening you’re both sitting on the floor of his living room again, leaning against the couch while a movie plays that neither of you is really paying attention to.

you make a sarcastic comment about one of the lines in the movie and he laughs so suddenly he almost spills his drink.

“what?” you ask.

“nothing.” he shakes his head. “i just like this.”

“sitting on the floor?”

“no,” he says. “this. you.”

you pretend to consider it.

“yeah, guess you’re okay.”

he bumps his shoulder into yours.

“brutal.”

-

the longer you’re together, the more obvious it becomes to him that this feels different from anything he’s had before.

the ease of it. the way conversations don’t feel like work. the way being around you feels calm instead of complicated.

like the two of you somehow landed exactly where you were supposed to.

one night you’re both stretched out on his couch after a long day.

it’s late enough that the city outside the windows has quieted down a little. the lights from the buildings across the street glow faintly through the curtains.

you’re leaning against him, half curled into his side with a blanket pulled over both of you.

at some point during the show you’re watching your head slowly drops against his chest.

joe glances down.

“you falling asleep on me?”

you mumble something that definitely sounds like no.

he smiles.

a few minutes later your breathing evens out.

you’re completely asleep.

he shifts slightly so you’re more comfortable, letting your head rest properly against him.

for a while he just sits there quietly.

one hand resting lightly on your arm, the other absentmindedly tracing small patterns on the blanket.

he watches you for a moment.

then he thinks about the last few months.

and he realises something that makes him shake his head quietly to himself.

because somewhere along the way, without him noticing exactly when, everything started fitting together.

like somehow the universe had already lined the two of you up before either of you understood what was happening.

he looks down at you again, sleeping peacefully against him.

after a moment he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“my dream girl” he murmurs quietly.

this time the words feel different.

not confused. not surprised.

just… certain.

like he finally understands why those dreams existed at all.

you shift slightly in your sleep, a faint smile appearing on your face as you settle a little closer against him.

joe smiles to himself and leans back into the couch, letting the quiet settle around both of you while you drift further into sleep.

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