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She dreamed of the boy with the sad eyes often when she was a little girl.
He was from a world that was completely separate from her own. At least, that's what it seemed like to the young heiress of a fairly wealthy family.
He was a boy who suffered great sorrow fairly early on in life, he never really said what happened to him or why he was always so angry at the world. In fact, he said that he didn't want to think about those things when they were together. He said that their nightly meetings made him happy, even though he knew that she wasn't real. Which was strange, because he was the one who wasn't real.
Though that fact became more and more difficult to believe as time passed and she saw him more and more often within her dreams. He looked to be around her age, perhaps one or two years older. His hair was as black as the night sky and his eyes always seemed to be filled with an emotion that she had never seen before. It was certainly not an emotion that a kid should be harboring.
"What's your name?" She asked one night as they played atop their favorite hill.
"I don't wanna give you my real name, so I guess you can call me Silver." He'd replied, "What's yours?"
The young girl puffed out her cheeks in reply to his answer, "Well if you're not gonna give me your real name, then I'm not gonna give me yours!" She thought for a long moment before her mother's face came to mind. "You can call me Layla."
Silver chuckled quietly before he nodded his head, "Alright Layla, what did you wanna talk about tonight?" He asked as he sat down in the tall grass.
The blonde thought about it for a moment before she plopped down directly in front of him, taking the young boy by surprise. She giggled when his cheeks turned red and averted his eyes, though he only puffed out his cheeks at the sound of her laughter.
"I wanna talk about us," she said softly. "How come I never see you when I'm awake? Do you live in this world only?" She tilted her head to the side as she focused her chocolate gaze upon his face. It wasn't until a long moment later, however, that he actually looked down at her.
"Well…" he trailed off, not entirely sure what he should say to the girl. "I guess the only thing to say is that we weren't really meant to be friends. So I kinda think that we're lucky that we get to see each other as much as we do."
His words made the little girl sad. She frowned and looked down at her hands that were tangled up in the long grass that they were sitting in. Her fingers curled and she could feel herself ripping a few blades of grass out of the ground.
She never really had any friends, so the idea of getting the chance to play with Silver during the daytime… that was something that she often thought about. It didn't seem as though it would be an achievable dream though.
"I think we were meant to be friends. I don't know why you'd say that we weren't, you're mean." she threw the grass that she'd been holding in her hands at the boy and he shouted in protest, slapping at the offending green blades.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way, Ur says that I dream of you because I'm lonely." Silver's cheeks heated up once more as he waved his hands around quickly, "I mean, I'm not! But…" he trailed off and his eyes hesitantly found the little girls once more. "I am really glad that I get you, even if it's just for a little while."
Dream? He dreamt about her? How did that make any sense? She was the one who was dreaming, right? So why did he think that he was dreaming?
Before she could voice these thoughts, she was shaken awake by her favorite maid, Spetto. Which right off the bat was enough to shock the little girl into a near fully-conscious state.
"Lady Lucy…" the older woman's voice broke when she managed to actually get the words out, "your mother…" she trailed off and shook her head. Tears spilled from her eyes and Lucy knew immediately that something horrible had happened. Her mother had been very sick for some time now.
Her suspicions were correct when she rushed into her mother's bedroom and discovered that Layla Heartfilia was drawing her last breaths.
Lucy never dreamed of the boy with the sad eyes again.