a/n thank you to the guests who reviewed c:
This chapter will be mainly in Adrian's POV—I like writing for guys, so this should be fun.
Disclaimer | I do not own Bloodlines.
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"You would have to be half mad to dream me up."
— Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.
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Adrian hated the waking world.
He hated the walls of the cell he was most usually locked in, and he hated the suffocating feeling of being trapped, shielded away from the outside world. If I was mad when they brought me here, it seems as though locking someone up alone would only fuel the insanity.
Though it had been nearly five years since he had been committed into the mental institution, he felt no change in his state of health. If anything, he felt the insanity more—he could see the insanity forcing its way into his mind and prying him open, the sight of which making him only more assured that he was truly insane.
He was fairly sure he would go completely mad if not for the very thing that was making him go insane.
His only escape from the mental prison was his dreams. The spirit in his blood helped him to walk among dreams while he slept and settle into those of the people who kept him sane. Every night, he would close his eyes and return home for even a moment with the people he loved and feel as though he were a little less mad than everyone believed him to be.
The more frequently he walked upon dreams the more the dark spirit built up inside him, but he couldn't find himself to give a damn. We'll all die here, anyway—what's the point of trying and failing at curing ourselves in the meantime?
He had given up on the dream of going back to court, and he bathed in the dreams that were driving him insane. At the end, he didn't care anymore—his only friend in the institution had been moved away from him because she was 'precious', and they believed that his darkness would lead him to lashing out at the green-eyed girl and truly hurt her.
Her name was Jillian Dragomir, and she was the younger sister of the queen. She was the most fragile person in the institution, but she wasn't half mad—she was always put in danger because of her sister's position.
Though the doctors tried to pass Jill off as insane, Adrian knew better—she would never be safe walking the paths of court even guarded. She would always be hunted and used, and Vasilisa was terrified of the fact that her only sibling was in danger.
Isolation was the only way Jill would truly be safe, and the only way to pass off a simple reason to isolate the girl would be to send her off to a mental institution.
Jill was only sixteen years old, and didn't have a clue why she was suddenly decided to be insane. She had never had the sensation of losing her mind as many of the patients of the institution had, and she had never lost grip of reality as she was said to have lost it.
She was the only reason Adrian hadn't lost his mind—a friendly face and familiar pair of eyes were comfort to him, and even though he could only see the kind-hearted girl at nighttime, it was enough to keep him from going truly mad. The spirited dreams kept him grounded, and the connection to the optimistic girl made him smile.
Or maybe it was only refreshing to meet someone who wasn't destined to die in their cell, trapped in madness as the rest of them were.
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"How are you feeling?"
Adrian's striking eyes narrowed at the doctor, wanting to punch the man. It was a man he had always hated, but a man he saw each day—he was sent daily to the doctor as some form of therapy, forced to confess his thoughts or feelings.
How can someone have new thoughts or feelings if all they do every day is stare at a grey wall?
"I'm feeling the same way I did yesterday. And yesterday? I was feeling the same way I did the day before. It's exactly the same. Every single day." The answer was a variation of the same reply Adrian fed the doctor each day, and the only reply he felt fit.
"Adrian," After two years of visits, the doctor had given up on formal titles with the stubborn royal, "Try and work with me on this."
"I really doubt there's a point. I tell you what I think, and you just write it down. I pretend to be insane, and you just write it down. I pretend to be fine, and you just write it down. I'd rather write in a goddamned journal than make a spoken-word book with an uncaring asshole as the recorder."
His doctor only looked down to his page and scribbled out a few notes, more likely about how agitated the moroi was. "How is your magic?"
"Useless," Adrian leaned back in the chair, folding his arms behind his head in a display of uncaring emotions, "I can't heal or grow—my magic is useful, but it doesn't do very much good when I'm the only company I have."
"And your dreams?"
"The anti-depressants have stopped them completely." Lie. He had been smashing the pills each day into a powder and scattering them about the room to look like dust, completely harmless when a maid came to clean while he was at therapy.
His doctor seemed to be satisfied with Adrian's response, and he wrote a short-worded note down on his notepad.
"Am I allowed to know what you're writing?" Adrian asked, already knowing what the answer would be. His doctor answered by shaking his head once, writing another note below his after the question was uttered, "How about asking when you're letting me out of this?"
"Out of the institution?"
"Nah, I already know that you're going to let me rot here. I meant when I was getting out of these daily therapy sessions. As much as I love bonding with you, these talks get a bit tedious and repetitive. Don't you think, Abe?"
"Don't call me Abe," He adjusted the tag on his shirt that read "Dr. Mazur", "Call me by my title, or do not refer to me at all."
"How should I reference you if I'm not supposed to say your name, Abe?" A glimpse of a smile played over Adrian's face, "Should I just clap when I wish to reference you?"
"You will reference my by my title." Adrian could see that the older man was becoming more annoyed and grinned, moving his lips in a smile that showed his white fangs.
"Come on, Abe—I dated your daughter for half a year. Wouldn't that make us friends?"
"That's the reason you aren't permitted to call me Abe," He wrote another short note on his paper, "But I needed to inform you of your rooming situations."
This spiked Adrian's interest, and he gave Abe a confused look, "Am I changing rooms?"
"No, you're staying in the same room, but you're receiving a different roommate." Abe watched Adrian, looking carefully for the surprise or happiness on the green-eyed man's face.
"Different? I haven't had a roommate since you decided that I was too dangerous for Jill. Is this one permanent, or are you going to decide that I'm too dangerous and move him like you did with Jill?"
"She, and she isn't being moved. I don't believe you'll hurt her, but in case you wish to, please refrain from doing so—I have connections with her family that I need intact, and if you strangle her with roses or whatnot, I doubt her family would be happy to maintain those connections."
"I can't strangle anyone with roses—I haven't touched a flower in half a decade, and I can't magically grow flowers and make them dance at my command. I'm not a faerie." Abe sighed at the distracted boy, shaking his head.
"I know she will be scared of you, but please don't do anything to her to make her even more terrified of you." The words made Adrian pause, and he stilled to watch the assertive man with concerned green eyes.
"Why the hell would she be afraid of me?" He thought to ask if the girl was a human, but he knew better—the institute was filled with moroi and dhampirs, and he knew that none of the doctors would dare to expose even an insane human to the hidden world behind the glamour. "Did you go and make some rumor that I bit Jill so that you'd be more popular among the royals? Because I'm sure they'd believe any lie about me that you would try to feed them."
"I made no such rumor—I'm plenty famous in court." Abe seemed proud of himself at the statement, and Adrian had to fight to suppress some comment on the nature of his fame coming from deals and cheating.
"Then what's the problem?"
Abe sighed gently, shaking his head. Adrian could see Abe piecing together the best way to phrase the news in his head, and the sight made Adrian nervous. He felt his stomach turn, but for once in his life, he stayed silent out of pure curiosity.
"She's an alchemist."
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question of the day:
who do you like better: lissa or jill?
leave a review c:
