The corridor smelled like old wood and the warm, sleepy kind of quiet that only exists after midnight.
Elior stopped at his door. Kael didn't. He stood there a second too long, not leaving, not speaking. Just… watching the way the light caught in Elior's hair.
"We're here," Elior said. Pointless. His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be.
Kael's gaze flicked down to Elior's hands. He was twisting his sleeve again. That nervous tell. Kael's jaw did something complicated. He hated it. Liked it. Hated that he liked it.
"Mm."
The silence between them wasn't empty. It was crowded.
Then Kael moved. Not enough to crowd him. Just enough that Elior had to tilt his chin to keep looking at him. Just enough that Kael could hear the tiny catch in his breathing.
"Go inside," Kael said. Low.
Elior blinked, thrown. "…You're not going?"
"Do you want me to?"
Elior froze like he'd been caught stealing. "…N-No. I didn't mean—"
The corner of Kael's mouth pulled. That familiar, infuriating almost-smile. "Relax."
For a moment, neither of them remembered how to be anywhere else.
Then Kael reached out.
His fingers were careful when they brushed the stray hair from Elior's temple. Careful, but not impersonal. His thumb skimmed skin, and it was an accident only if you believed in those. It lasted a second longer than kindness required.
Elior went very still.
"…Kael."
Kael pulled back like it hurt. His hand dropped to his side and curled into a fist, like he was physically restraining it from reaching again.
"Sleep well," he said, voice gone softer than the hallway deserved. "Don't think too much."
A beat. Then, that tone again — the one that ruined people.
"Sweet dreams… kitten."
Elior's breath snagged. Color climbed his neck, his cheeks. "You—"
But Kael was already turning. Casual. Unbothered. As if he hadn't just carved a word into the space between Elior's ribs.
"Let's meet tomorrow."
He didn't look back. Just lifted a hand in a lazy wave and walked off, every step too composed to be real.
Elior stayed. Rooted.
Slowly, his fingers rose to where Kael had touched him. The skin there felt foreign. Marked.
"…Idiot," he whispered to the empty hall.
He went inside.
But sleep was a coward that night. It wouldn't come near him. Not with that voice echoing. Not with kitten still warm against his ear.
Kael slept.
And the world fell away.
He didn't dream of places. He dreamt of a person. Never a face. Never a name. He didn't need them.
Because this wasn't memory. It was gravity.
A presence that didn't ask to stay. It just was. Like blood. Like breathing. Like something that had been his before the world began and would be his after it ended.
It wasn't soft. Gentle things could be taken. This couldn't.
This was the kind of knowing that lived in bone. The kind that said yours without sound. The kind that fit against his chest like it had been carved to match.
Even without a face, Kael's body recognized it. His shoulders dropped. His breath slowed. Something in him leaned, and leaned, and never stopped leaning.
It wasn't peace. It was possession in reverse — being possessed so completely that freedom felt like a lie.
He didn't know who they were.
But his soul did. And it was feral about it.
If I loved once, the dream seemed to say, it was not a candle. It was a wildfire. And it never went out. It's just been waiting for air.
Tonight, the dream sharpened.
No blur. No fog. It took him by the hand and led him somewhere that had been holding its breath for centuries.
The air was warm. Gold-lit. It smelled like something he'd lost and never named.
And there.
The presence.
Closer than ever. Still faceless. But no longer distant. Kael could have sworn he heard breathing that wasn't his own.
He stopped because his body stopped him. A hard, full-body recognition that knocked the thought right out of his head.
There you are.
Not a question. Not relief. An accusation. Where the hell have you been.
The figure didn't move. Didn't have to. It stood there like it had been standing there for every second Kael had been alive, just waiting for him to look up.
Kael took a step. Then another. Drawn wasn't the word. Called was the word. Like his name was being spoken in a language older than sound.
For the first time since the dreams started, the ache in his chest had a shape.
This.
This is what I've been bleeding for.
He was three breaths away.
Then someone else walked into the dream.
Kael stopped.
Everything in him went cold, then hot, then wrong.
The stranger moved with ease. With familiarity. He stopped beside the presence and smiled like he had a right to.
And the presence—
The presence smiled back.
No hesitation. No guard. Just… welcome.
Something in Kael's ribs splintered.
The stranger reached out. Took the presence's hand. It was casual. Friendly. Meant nothing.
It meant everything.
The world narrowed to that single point of contact. Skin on skin that wasn't his. Kael couldn't hear the breeze anymore. Couldn't feel the golden light. There was only a hand. Not his. Touching what was.
Red.
His vision went red, immediate and violent.
No.
He lunged. Tried to rip them apart. Tried to shove himself between.
His hands passed through both of them like smoke.
The absence of impact was worse than pain. He stumbled. Tried again. 'Get off hi
m get off get off'—
Nothing.
He was a ghost. And they were real to each other.
The presence is there, lit like something holy. And the stranger is beside him, grinning like he's carrying a secret.
Kael wants to look away. He never can.
"You—close your eyes," the stranger says, light. Teasing.
Kael's chest tightens. Don't.
The presence huffs, fond-exasperated. "A present? Now? Why?"
Please don't give him that smile. Please.
"When I feel like it," the stranger says. "That's reason enough. Close them."
A beat.
"…Fine."
The presence obeys. Closes his eyes. Trusts.
And Kael feels something inside him sink.
Because he would have given anything to be the one he trusted like that.
The stranger pulls something from behind his back.
"Okay. Open."
Small. Blue. Delicate.
A cluster of tiny blossoms, five-petaled and impossibly soft. They fit in the stranger's palm, sky-colored petals spread open like they were waiting to be noticed.
The color of twilight. The color of a bruise.
A bouquet.
Kael knows them.
He would have known them anywhere. Even in a dream. Even after lifetimes.
Forget-me-nots.
The name alone is a grave.
Kael's heart stops.
"They're… really pretty," the presence says, startled soft. "What are they?"
You think they're pretty. Of course you do.
"Forget-Me-Nots."
The name hits Kael like a weight straight through his ribs.
I never forgot, he thinks, and it is wreckage. I never could. Not for one second.
Do you remember me?
"That's a strange name," the presence murmurs.
"They mean remembering someone," the stranger says, easy. "Even when they're far away. Or when you don't see them for a while."
Kael can't breathe.
I see you every night. Every night. And you don't see me at all.
"That's… kind of nice," the presence says. And smiles.
Kael breaks.
Quietly. Completely.
Because that smile is the reason he exists. And it isn't his.
The stranger's gaze lingers. Then he reaches up.
His fingers brush a leaf from the presence's hair.
Kael feels it like a hand through his chest.
He gets to touch you. And I don't get to exist.
"You really don't notice these things," the stranger chuckles.
"Oh—thanks." The presence is oblivious. Flustered. "You didn't have to… but thank you."
You don't know. You don't know what he's giving you. What you're taking from me.
"Just saw them and thought of you," the stranger says, ducking his head. "They're not common."
A pause. Softer.
"Kind of like you."
Kael presses his palm to his chest. Hard. Like he can keep himself from splitting open.
The presence flushes, looks away. "You always say things like that… I'm not anything special."
You are. The thought tears through him. You're the only thing that ever was. And you forgot me.
"That's just what you think," the stranger says, smiling.
The presence sighs, but he's still smiling. "Alright, let's go. They must be waiting for us."
"Yeah."
They turn.
And walk.
Side by side. Steps in sync. Comfortable.
And Kael watches.
And it crushes him.
Why am I not the one?
The question isn't loud. It's broken.
Why am I not the one beside you? Why am I the one who remembers while you forget?
He watches them go.
And in the ruin of his chest, something settles. Heavy. Final.
He shouldn't be beside him.
That place…
Is not his.
It's mine.
It was supposed to be mine.
And you don't even know you forgot me.
You don't even know there was something to remember.
The gold light swallows them.
And the dream ends.
And Kael is still there.
Alone.
By Aurea; "I was close enough to see you…
but never close enough to belong."