Title: Snow Dream
By: Mitsukai04
Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Don't sue. I am but a poor high school student.
Author's Notes: This is in actuality, based on a dream of my own that I altered for the use of this fanfic. It's tragic, but then again, so is the B/A relationship. Also, if it doesn't make too much sense, I guess it isn't supposed to. Dreams are weird that way.
[2/15/2004: No changes made to this fanfic. Only updating the format.]
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I slowly opened my eyes to what first appeared to be bright nothingness. But my mind adjusted to the landscape that surrounded me, and I soon realized I lying on my right side in a snow-covered field. How I had managed to get to such a place, I didn't know. I glanced down at my attire—a long, white gown. My gaze then returned to the endless miles of snow before me and I stared quietly, unsure of what I should do next.
I didn't feel the cold… I felt nothing. Yet perhaps the bitter cold of the snow had consumed my being so entirely that I was completely numb. If I had the chance to see my reflection, I would imagine that my lips were a soft shade of blue… my skin unnaturally pale… my hair covered in frost.
It was by this time that I took chance to notice what was beside me: a weeping willow, its drooping branches stopping a foot or so above me. Its trunk was a rich brown; its leaves a merry green. There seemed nothing out of the ordinary about it; it was a normal tree.
With what felt to be great strain to my body, I shifted my position on the ground so that I now lied on back, staring at the only color that seemed to exist in this plane.
Why did I feel so empty? So unfeeling? How did I come to a place so bleak and dreary?
Why could I not find the vigor to move?
After seemed to be hours, I finally began to set myself upright, though it took me several tries.
Now sitting, I observed the landscape behind me, only to discover what had been set before me.
Snow, snow, and more snow. It seemed that this lonely tree and I were the only living things for miles around. I slowly outstretched my hand and placed it gently upon the trunk of the tree, almost as if to see if it was real, and not a figment of my disoriented imagination. At feeling the rough bark beneath my fingertips, I felt somewhat relieved. At least, in a sense, I was not alone.
Only several moments had passed and I had not yet removed my hand from the tree, when I sensed him. I did not have to turn around to know that he was there, standing but a few mere feet away. I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath. Out of all the people my mind could remember, I did not expect to see him here.
"What are you doing here?"
I did my best to ask this question in a steely voice, in a tone as cold and bitter as our surroundings. I slowly turned to look at him expectantly, perhaps even glare at him.
His clothing contrasted greatly to the pure white snow around us. Black shirt, black pants, black coat, black shoes. The same as he had always been.
"You already know the answer to that question."
I stared at him. Was he playing tricks with my mind?
I slowly raised myself to my knees, keeping my gaze on him.
"I don't want you here."
I wanted my voice to sound determined, but my words only spilled forth unsure.
I moved too quickly to stand and lurched forward. It felt as if though my legs had not supported my frame for an eternity.
Before I could even form a rational thought, I was in his arms.
He had stepped forward quickly and caught me, holding me steady.
At that very moment, since the time I had come to arrive in that place, I felt warmth. The blood in my veins had somehow awoken and was now rushing madly through my body.
Yet he himself had always been so cold; I had been the one with the warmth. I had always relished the feel of his cool skin beneath my fingertips. We were fire and ice, him and I. Two halves of a whole soul. I will always miss his touch… and besides the fact that he would remain eternally cold, he would always have the ability to warm my entire being.
And now, here I stood, in his arms, surrounded by such a familiar, wonderful feeling. Only his touch alone could do this to me.
I now hated him for it.
"You don't have a choice, you know."
He said this in such a gentle way that for a moment's time, my heart leap with hope.
But I knew better. I had always known better.
I wretched myself from his grasp, putting distance between us.
"Don't. touch me."
He made no move to reply. He only watched me, with what I thought was a hint of sadness in his eyes.
His eyes… how could I have forgotten them? How I now loathed how he only had to look, and I felt as though he could see into my very soul. How a simple glance would eat away at my heart.
When his gaze became too much to bear, I spoke again.
"Why are you here then? To torment me? To haunt me?"
I became aware of how bitterly angry I sounded, yet I could not hold back my emotions.
He had set something loose within me, something that was once contained, and I could no longer hold it back.
He once again replied in his cool, calm manner. The manner that made my blood boil.
"To guide you. You have to know what to see."
At this, his gaze lowered to my gown. I followed his eyes and gasped slightly in surprise.
The front of my white dress was beginning to turn red.
I raised my hand to touch the material, wondering where the source of the dye was coming from.
To my horror, the red dye was in fact blood, pouring out of a wound from my chest, in the area were my heart is.
Why did I feel no pain? Where was my heart? Was it gone?
I looked back at him, reaching out to him with my now bloodstained hand.
"What's happening to me?" I asked in a pleading voice. My panic must have been apparent, for he stepped forward and threaded his fingers with mine, ignorant to the blood that now slipped onto his hand.
With a gentle tug, he pulled me once again into his embrace. I felt I had no choice but to give in; I wrapped my arms around his waist and placed my cheek upon his chest, feeling incredibly fragile in his embrace.
He rested one hand on my back; the other cradled my head.
He placed his lips beside my ear.
"Close your eyes," he whispered.
The sensation of him being so near sent a jolt of electricity through my body that I desperately tried to ignore.
What could I do? What could I say?
He who had wounded me so badly, who had once been my world and was now no longer a part of it, was now my only source of comfort in this desolate place.
"I don't love you anymore," I said quietly.
Why are you lying to him?, my heart screamed at me.
His embrace only tightened slightly.
"I know."
Yet another lie.
With that, I closed my eyes.