My Girlfriend is a Dreamer

“Anon….Anon!” I heard a familiar voice hiss in my ear, rousing me from my peaceful slumber. I opted to pretend I was in a deeper sleep than I was, but I knew she would start doing the eyes thing and god help me if it wasn't potent even while I wasn't even looking at her.

“Mmrr…” I groaned, finally relenting and opening my eyes a bit. Thankfully it was still dark out so my eyes weren't assaulted by harsh light. Unfortunately that meant it was early as all hell. Peeking at the alarm clock on the nightstand I saw it was 3:12am. “May….” I started.

“We need a gym membership!” She hissed, oblivious to my agitation.

I slowly looked at her, not sure if I heard her right or if this was some stupid- ass dream. “What?” I asked after several moments. I couldn't see her in the dark room, but I knew she was wide awake and giving me one of her serious, albeit adorable, looks.

I felt her shift on the bed a bit, her tail swishing under the sheets in determination. “We need to go to the gym tomorrow and get a membership!” She repeated.

“Why?” I decided to humor her, if only to speed up the process of going back to sleep.

“I had a dream we went to Clare's and she cooked for us and you ate a lot and got really fat!” She said quickly.

“Wh- May….” Her name was becoming my fucking catchphrase, I swore to god.

“I know a guy that works at the gym! He can hook us up!”

“What is up with you and your sisters’ autistic obsession with dreams?” I groaned, burying my face in the pillow closest to her chest.

“Wha- we do not have an obsession with dreams!” She said indignantly.

“Last week your sister Jess called me while I was at work and demanded to know if I only loved you for your toes,” I shot back. “She apparently had a dream that I married you only for your toes!”

“You don't have a foot fetish?” She asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

“I don't- May.”

“I'm not judging you,” she said quickly.

“We aren't going to get a gym membership because of a dream you had,” I said, rolling over. “And Clarissa can't even cook!”

“Yes but you still ate it.”

“Go to sleep,” I said before attempting such a feat. I heard her huff before she laid back down. The sweet, blissful surrender of silence was heavenly as I began to drift. Then….

“...You never eat MY cooking in my dreams…” she mumbled.

“May.”