Archive of Our Own ^beta

Your eyes open.

Around you, an empty town square. Dimly lit diners and shops lined the area around you, not an alleyway nor pause within the seemingly neverending buildings in sight. Silhouettes seem to dance within the windows, moving akin to theatre paper dolls amidst a cardboard background with static swaying and an idle chatter of background noise.

In front of you, lies a fountain. Clean, empty, as if it had just been built mere moments ago. A coin rests atop the smooth brick, an invitation.

Body moving on its own, you gently grasp the golden trinket and inspect it. The design atop it seems to swirl and move, not knowing what face or currency to claim for itself. Your brows furrow. You felt complacent with this, despite the inherent lack of reality. What is happening to you?

Your fingers move on their own as you flip the coin, a gentle splash resonating as it breached the fountain’s water.

“When will you join me?”

The hair on the back of your neck raises as you bristle, turning around as they greet a pair of pale gold hues. “Join you, in what?” you reply.

The beautiful male says nothing, instead opting to approach and seat himself atop the brick where the coin had previously remained. His eyes glanced at the water, before returning to yours. “Join me. Your powers, your being – they’re valuable. They’re important, to me.”

You feel as though you’re glued to the spot, unable to move. Your legs, despite your will, would refuse to move even as a cold sweat seems to shudder your spine. “I don’t understand. What powers?” you replied, voice unnaturally calm. This feels.. Transactional. Or perhaps, possessive. Something about this entire thing, is so horribly twisted, so wrong.

His reply was but a stretched smile, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned forward to tightly embrace you. It had almost felt greedy. You shut your eyes, refusing to acknowledge it all. The environment, the strange man in front of you, the clear fakeness of it all. “Let me go. Let me go now. I don’t understand.”

With a soft chuckle, almost that of a simple huff, he does so. His eyes seem to gleam even brighter as his smile remains, no sense of forced intention behind it. “Join me. Join me by my side, and do not leave me, ever.”

A nagging feeling tugs at your being, your eyes feel as though they’re swimming and your brain stuffed full of cotton. You are losing yourself. You have no reign of your actions any longer as you reach out, gently grasping the man’s cold hands within your own and mumbling a silent “Okay”.

It isn’t long before you shoot up in the comfort of your bed, all senses failing themselves as you feverishly make a mad dash to the bathroom ; tears filling your eyes as you empty your stomach within the sink without making it to the toilet in time. All limbs tremble, and you let out a choked cry and sniffle as you sink to your knees.

What was that? What had just happened? That dream. Who was the man, now foggy and forever lost to your night terror, whom had seemingly attempted to stake a claim upon your being?

You shed pitiful tears as you meekly turn the faucet, washing the acidic taste from your mouth and cleaning the sink of its use.

A knock is heard against your door, and you whimper as you push yourself from the sink. With a turn of the golden handle, you’re met with a pair of warm eyes.”Is everything alright? I heard a commotion.” Tamsy mumbles, his eyes seeming concerned as he assesses your being. Your trembling form, flushed face, freshly wet hands.

You let out a sharp exhale, sniffling before winding your arms around his torso in an almost suffocating way. He seems to bristle at this, not expecting it, but quickly settles into it as he wraps his own arms around you and begins to rub soft circles into your back. With careful shuffling, mindful of your fragile state, he moves inside of your room, guiding you to your bed to tuck you in once more.

His hands carefully stroke your hair, an unfamiliar exchange for him. He wouldn’t have ever found himself fond for anyone, much less one who is so.. Meager, pathetic even.

But even so, his eyes gleam with an unkempt, untamed adoration as your eyes close and your sniffling stops. He sighs softly, and takes his exit.

Not without wedging the door open one last time to peek at you, ensuring your safe rest, does he let go of the door’s handle and bids your resting figure adieu.