He dreamt of that boy with broken-glass coloured eyes, crown of fire ablaze in the sunlight. Porcelain-milky skin rippled from powerful muscles hidden out of sight. The boy with the delicate-snub nose and pale pink lips pressed into a thin line. He dreamt of the boy with the heart that reflected the barren land that stretched out before him, spreading out from the cliff edge on which he stood on out to the horizon, dipping into the sunrise or the sunset. Time meant nothing. Day or night, those haunted eyes remained open, pupils dilated at the sight of blood, with a cold and unflattering almost-permanent glare.
Heartbeat.
He never stopped dreaming. When he woke up, the dream was chased away by the light of the day, by the breeze that rustled through the window, by the leaves that swirled around him as he darted out of his apartment. He would spend the day outside, training or eating, snoring under the shelter of the trees or wandering the streets aimlessly. When he returned back home, when his eyes closed and his mind shut down, he would dream again.
And again and again and each morning the dream would be gone.
The boy with washed-out eyes that were like the ocean during a storm still stood at the cliff edge, unmoving. The hot dry air hummed. He watched the boy. They were both waiting.
Heartbeat.
He woke up, heart in pieces. The dream lingered. He remained at home that day, not remembering the details but disturbed at the leftover age-old thoughts, long forgotten emotions shaken out and dusted once again.
He wanted to dream that dream again.
The boy was still there. He was glad. He had wondered if one day the boy would leave and when he dreamed, all he would see was the empty cliff edge. He was glad. The boy turned, the wind swelling, whipping the blood-drenched hair around, framing the tattoo etched on his forehead. It bled and the skin tore away from the boy's face, the flesh turned to dust, turned to sand, and his bones collapsed and crumbled and were buried.
He woke up, heart in pieces. Love bled.
The dream fled and there was no one to remember it.