The heart she has closed for years began to rust. Cracks began to form on the keyless locks, with brittle bits on the edge. The moment was too perfect for her to escape from the clutches of memoirs.
Breaking away from the prison she was kept, she set free barefooted.
Yet, a mist of dream began to cloak her, creating the ethereal space she had dreamed too often. Guiding her to the reminiscences, it started to clear up. What is it?
The coarse leaf brushes against the breezy air. Her brown coat was hitting against the fall wind, with droplets after rain holding to its life on the tip of the branch. The sky was full of looming greys, as she can barely see the hidden rays. Holding to her only parasol, she started to walk through the bustling foliates decorated beside the flowing river. They were sad. The skies.
It was then she saw someone familiar. Noir.
Disregard the train of thoughts, all is impossible. Too good to be true, yet his steps are full of tranquil. He’s not real.
But he is. He’s undeniable, with his signature striped scarf and black attire. This is too good to be true.
Yet, her feet ignores her rational sense and followed the illogical sentiment. Clapping against the quagmire, the red heels tried to bring her as fast as it could to his embrace. Am I dreaming?
He runs his hand through her streaks of red hairs, leaning in and showing his signature smile, the smile she fell for. Too close. This has to be real.
His eyes radiate love like she never has seen before; full of warmth and tenderness. He pulls her in, whispers in her ears. Before she could fathom the meaning behind his phrases, their lips touch. I–
Her lips brushed his softly, caressing every bit of her; the delicateness of herself, seeking union between their lustful affection. Melting her away from the doubts she had. Her rosy cheek began to light up as he leans in for more. It feels like she has flown to another universe where the tick stopped, allowing them to embrace moments they have lost.
For once, time isn’t my enemy.
Nevertheless, butterflies started to flicker around them.
Runaway with me from this bliss of heaven.
—
As the image shatters, she’s greeted back by the demons. Holding onto her leash, they ensure her to stay in the ethereal space of darkness. Trying to break off the chain that held her close to submission was futile.
Preventing her from fleeing too far was the only option before she realizes the pastel-like dream is an illusion masked behind the tragic mess of thoughts.
It’s not real. Wake up.
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