Just a dream?
The Boy With The Long Hair
The fog rolled out like nights thick blanket over the dark forest floor. Dead twigs and leaves crunches loudly underneath his feet, even with the extra care he took to assure each step was a careful one. It was late, obviously, and the moon drenched him in an odd white light that created too much shadow confusion for him to focus too long.
He kept a steady pace until the footsteps of something else echoed off the trees. He paused, blood filling his ears when his heart pumped it ten times faster. He kept moving, still, but a bit faster. His breathing followed suit, his breath leaving in quick puffs that fogged his vision. He moved faster, faster, with no direction except forwards.
Suddenly, a dark blur streaked past him, knocking him off of his feet. About twenty feet from him was a strange boy. He had long, scruffy black hair and a bare chest. His eyes were sharp, and his expression sharper, but his gaze stayed glued to the boy on the ground. By now, the traveller’s eyes were wide with too many emotions to count.
Fear? Confusion? Fascination? His eyes couldn’t linger for too long, because in a heartbeat a pair of large, but elegant black feathered wings unfolded from behind the boy with the long hair and lifted him into the sky and out of sight.
Ken shot of out bed, a layer of sweat covering him and his crumpled sheets. It took a solid five minutes for his breathing to return to a regular tempo and it was then that his brain allowed his to diagnose his dream.
It’s not that it was scary, no, he thought. Its how terrifyingly real it was, it was almost like a memory…
Brushing it off like it was nothing; he fell back into his bed, praying to return to a new dream.
Every night it was the same dream. The same darkness, the same forest, the same boy.
Some nights, Ken would anticipate his dream, thinking it of just another opportunity to see the boy with the long hair. Other nights, he would suffer from insomnia, pulling his hair out to avoid shutting his eyes.
It repeated for months, like a movie on replay for the rest of his life. Eventually, he began to cope with his dream but there was always that one magical question.
Why?
One night, Ken turned into bed, just like normal, but when he rose in his dream, it seemed off. Something was wrong. He walked the same path of trees and saw the same moon, but when he reached the spot where the boy should be, he was closer. Much, much closer.
Ken took in as much detail as he could about the boy. His long hair didn’t seem as scruffy as usual, and his sharp eyes held a look of wonder somewhere in them as they looked over Ken’s face. They stood there for what could have been hours, just examining each other, but never touching or speaking. But, of course it had to end. The boy lifted his arm and grazed his fingertips so lightly on Ken’s face it almost felt like a breeze before he stepped backward and spread his wings just like every other time. Ken smiled at the empty spot in front of him before he was zapped back into the reality of his bedroom.
A week later, and the dream was still different. Though, each time, it would change. In one, the boy would feel his face, like before. In another, he would smile and it would spread warmth through Ken’s body. In another, he would shy away, and avoid eye contact. Of course, the smiling one was his favourite. But sometimes he wishes he could just stay in the dream with the mysterious boy.
Just like any other night, he went into the dream, but to his disappointment, the boy wasn’t there. He looked as heard as he could but there wasn’t a single trace that he had ever stepped foot in that forest. It was confusing to no end, but before h could question it for too long he was snapped out of it.
Then, he was there.
Not just there, but really there. Not just a dream.
He could feel the dry dirt underneath his fingers. He could feel the fog sending chills down his spine. Rising to his feet, he searched frantically for that raven hair he knew so well. Darting between trees and tripping on falling branches, he ran like a mad man.
It all stopped when he saw him. It was the boy, on a ledge, his hand extended towards Ken’s and that gently smile that he loved so much on his beautiful face. He stepped forward and took the boys hand and smiled back. Just like the boys, he had his own pair of black wings. They reached off of his back as he looked the boy in eyes and nodded, as if they could read each other’s minds. And just like a dream, they took off together into the black sky, not caring about anything except each other.
(A/N: if this is hella weird im sorry its almost three am and when i get inspiration i need to write it on the spot. so yeah this is obviously Hyde inspired (???duh) and some feedback would be helpful. not mean stuff though please but constructive is a+
laters
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