Notes: Neo's thoughts and feelings as he lies asleep, having that dream that we see in Reloaded. I know it's short, and slightly more abstract that I usually write, but please review so I can have your thoughts on it!
Swirling thoughts tainted with pain; confusion, adoration, fear. Emotion etched within every line of his face, even in his disturbed sleep, contorted to betray his feeling of dread and to reveal what he subconsciously tried to hide.
In this state of limbo, where what was illusion was actually portraying the future, he sucked in a huge breath, watching her fall, feeling the sharp impact of the bullet, the circular hole in her torso being obscured by the crimson fountain of her blood. He felt her pain. He shared in her fears. Yet he still experienced his own. His pain and fears colliding with hers in a sumptuous and terrifying flame, overwhelming his entire body, tensed up against it.
His muscles ached. With every extra inch that her body fell, his eyes screwed up further, though nothing could blot out the vision of his subconscious, his inner eye that vented cutting perceptions, those being the ones that made him fight against sleep every night...fighting...fighting...eyes heavy...falling...
Guns held steadfast in her grip, loosening in her agony. His agony. Her features arranging themselves into realisation of her defeat, her immense pain emerging through her piercing green eyes.
He couldn't watch. Trying to turn away, but never able to switch off the painful illusions in his head. They ate him up inside, all of his impulses reminding him that...
...that this would happen...
Shards of glass floating around her like spiky rain, showering her falling body, reflecting the scene and shooting it back at his fixed gaze. He was immaterial, merely a disembodied spectator, who would not exist at this scene when it occurred. But in this fabrication, his mind played games, making him believe that he was there. That she was dying and his incorporeal paralysis meant that there was nothing he could do to stop it.
His eyes flew open.
And there she lay, beside him as she had been as sleep had invaded him. Though he could not smile or even be glad she was there. Nor look at her.
If only for the fear that one day she wouldn't be.
Swirling thoughts tainted with pain; confusion, adoration, fear. Emotion etched within every line of his face, even in his disturbed sleep, contorted to betray his feeling of dread and to reveal what he subconsciously tried to hide.
In this state of limbo, where what was illusion was actually portraying the future, he sucked in a huge breath, watching her fall, feeling the sharp impact of the bullet, the circular hole in her torso being obscured by the crimson fountain of her blood. He felt her pain. He shared in her fears. Yet he still experienced his own. His pain and fears colliding with hers in a sumptuous and terrifying flame, overwhelming his entire body, tensed up against it.
His muscles ached. With every extra inch that her body fell, his eyes screwed up further, though nothing could blot out the vision of his subconscious, his inner eye that vented cutting perceptions, those being the ones that made him fight against sleep every night...fighting...fighting...eyes heavy...falling...
Guns held steadfast in her grip, loosening in her agony. His agony. Her features arranging themselves into realisation of her defeat, her immense pain emerging through her piercing green eyes.
He couldn't watch. Trying to turn away, but never able to switch off the painful illusions in his head. They ate him up inside, all of his impulses reminding him that...
...that this would happen...
Shards of glass floating around her like spiky rain, showering her falling body, reflecting the scene and shooting it back at his fixed gaze. He was immaterial, merely a disembodied spectator, who would not exist at this scene when it occurred. But in this fabrication, his mind played games, making him believe that he was there. That she was dying and his incorporeal paralysis meant that there was nothing he could do to stop it.
His eyes flew open.
And there she lay, beside him as she had been as sleep had invaded him. Though he could not smile or even be glad she was there. Nor look at her.
If only for the fear that one day she wouldn't be.