Its only a dream…

The box sat on Aerion's nightstand for weeks, collecting dust just as the thought did in his mind. A stupid prank from his drunken brother, one he wouldn't entertain. Busying himself with work, running the length of his street for an hour each morning and evening, driving until his gas ran on empty. Trying not to let you consume his every waking moment.

But you insisted on it anyway.

You had been friends since you interned at his father's company, only for a summer just to get some experience and a glowing recommendation. Aerion, to his core, was naturally standoffish, so he hadn't warmed to you until you were forcibly locked in his office with him to help stay up to date on reports. One of the boring tasks that Aerion fought defiantly.

It was that afternoon, he finally warmed to you. Though it was more akin to ice melting. He remained silent, gone were the scoffing and pompous commentary. Then, he began to laugh at your jokes. And that afternoon had been the catalyst to a strange friendship.

A friendship of unspoken words, lingering glances when the other was unaware, living life in show for each other. You played the part of friend well; hiding every ounce of yearning in your chest behind your poker face. He was none the wiser to your ache for him; the way he brought you a coffee every morning on his way toward his office, the way he praised you for everything you did to help him, the silent car rides he would give you home.

You would confide in Valarr, another intern you met, who you had found out was Aerion's cousin. Great. No escaping this man. But Valarr didn't much care for his cousin, wouldn't piss on him if he were on fire. So your secrets were undeniably safe with him.

It had been months of yearning of Aerion, veiled with friendly teasing comments and an appropriate distance. Telling Valarr how you wished Aerion would just reject you, so you could move on. But he continued as if your friendship was completely pure, as if he were naive to the way your hands would be less than an inch from each other when you would share his desk for a task. Even when you had left the company after an extended internship, hoping to latch onto someone else at your new job. But your mind refused to unlatch from the pale haired brat you found a friend in.

"I bought you a gift." Valarr had his hands tucked behind his back when he met you at the cafe. You kept touch with him, meeting him for lunch whenever you could. And even today, to celebrate his promotion.

"For me?" You cheered, standing from your seat to embrace him. "You're the man of honor today!"

"Humor me for just a moment. Close your eyes." He took his hands from behind his back, placing the box into your outstretched hands. Your eyes peeled open to see a triangular box, a ONE WISH WILLOW.

"What the fuck is this?" You frowned.

"I was looking for a gift for my dad's birthday and saw that in a crystal shop." He explained, taking a sip of the piping hot beverage you had ordered for him minutes before he arrived.

"You were looking for a gift for your dad in a crystal shop?" Your face scrunched more intensely at your strange friend, the small box still sat in your hands.

"Besides the point." Valarr deadpanned. "It's a One Wish Willow."

"And what does this Willow do?"

"You wish for something and snap it. And your wish comes true." Valarr spoke so casually, as if this were as common knowledge as brushing your teeth or tying your shoes.

"You're hilarious." You gave him a wooden stare, dismissing the small box into your purse. "`What do I wish for? A new best friend?"

"I was thinking you could finally wish for my wretched cousin to cease his existence." Valarr suggested. "Or for him to love you as intensely as you do him."

"Hey!" You exclaimed.

"What? Your love makes me sick." A half-truth. He loved seeing you happy, but not where Aerion was involved. He would snap a Willow of his own to wish you would forget your puppy love for his cousin.

"The only wish I'll be making it for you to be quiet."

Perhaps your neutrality with Aerion didn't just sink into his stomach, or fade into nothingness. Perhaps it mutated in his mind, sending him into a vastness of insanity. The constant, unusual fear of saying something stupid, cheering himself up with watching your social media intently, unwilling to let go of the hold he had on you. He had been driven to insanity over you. That very feeling had him sat in the corner of the backyard, in his designated smoking spot that his father had ordered him to use, because the smoke "keeps lingering in the house".

He held the triangular box in his hand, observing the dated red-and-white design, vexed at himself for even considering resorting to this foolishness.

He studied the box between drags, letting the cigarette sit between his lips as he read the words.

Need help? Call today! 1-323-747-7118

He could wish for his infatuation for you to cease, then he could live his life more peacefully, more for himself and less in show for you. He could wish for you to move out of town, forcing himself to get over you and live your lives separately. But Aerion was a selfish man, he knew it. He wouldn't do anything that didn't serve him.

REMOVE FROM THE BOX AND JUST MAKE A WISH!

SPARK THE MIDDLE AND BREAK IT IN HALF.

WHAT ARE YOU WISHING FOR?

"I wish," he sighed deeply, tapping his foot to find the wording.

It were as if something in his mind had snapped, the sound of a twig snapping echoed in his mind. His emotion felt dialled, it had never burned so violently in his stomach, it had never sounded like a deafening ring as much as it did in this moment.

This was where insanity had taken him, wishing for you to love him as he did you, wishing the one girl who was so passive with him to truly, deeply love him. And so, he spoke his wish aloud. For you to love him, to match his desire. Before snapping the willow, a clean break in the middle as it sat in each hand.

"So stupid." He scoffed, discarding the trinket onto the lawn beside him, stubbing the butt of his cigarette out between the fragments. He hoped to wake in the morning and have this useless feeling in the pit of his stomach to be gone, for you to be gone—

His phone chimed, the screen like a stun grenade in the darkness of the garden.

You: Hey, you.

Aerion's mouth dried. This was stupid coincidence, right?

Aerion: Hey.

Was that too blunt? Did he look uninterested? Had he ruined his wish already?

Aerion: What are you doing up so late?

You: Can't sleep.

Aerion: Me neither.

He watched the typing bubble appear and disappear over and over, impatiently waiting for your reply. He lit another cigarette through pure stress, inhaling it as his phone balanced on his knee.

You: Want to go for a drive?

"How have we not done this sooner?" You sighed, settling comfortably into his fully reclined passenger seat, your view of the city below and all its little gleaming lights.

"Busy, I guess." He shrugged. "We live different lives now."

The words felt like a lie as he spoke them. If you wanted to make the time, the two of you would have. But you had become professional and skirting around your feelings, pretending the blossoming in your chest was simply not there.

"That makes me sad." You sighed, looking over at him as his head was already turned to face yours. "I missed you."

Aerion could feel his mind buzz with anxiety, the hankering for another cigarette had his hands balled tightly at his side. "I missed you."

The world looked darker around you. Each different hue now warmer, redder, than it should be. As if a vessel had burst in your eye, the blood coating your vision until all you could see was Aerion. The man who looked no different than when you worked with him a year ago. Hair still unnaturally white, eyes still sunken and jaw still tense. A cigarette dangling from his lip at any given chance.

You had always admired the small details of his face, but only tonight had you truly seen them. It felt like the wires in your brain had been tangled, heightening any sort of feelings you already harboured. His eyes looked darker, smile wider, you could hear the blood passing through his veins, you could hear his heart pumping rapidly.

Your Willow had worked.

Aerion watched you intently; he noticed your tinged cheeks as you smiled at him, he noticed the way you were intensely staring into him, he noticed how you fiddled with the rings on your finger sheepishly. He wouldn't even admit it inside the privacy of his own mind, he would not give Daeron the satisfaction of saying this stupid Willow had worked.

"Want me to drive you home?" Aerion offered. "You look tired."

"No." You answered quickly, reaching a hand out to settle on his chest. "I like it here. With you."

Aerion placed his hand over yours, where his heart was buried beneath, calling out to your flesh above it. "Then you can come home with me."

You nodded. Your mind wasn't your own tonight, you knew better than to go home with a guy you hadn't seen in a year. But it was Aerion, your heart was encased in tattoos of his name, memories of words he'd spoken to you. He felt like home.

Laying beside him in his bed felt feverish. His sheets felt coarse against your bare legs, his hands were weighted as they rest on your hip. You were looking straight at him and all you could make out were the glints in his eyes. His features kissed by shadow and darkness, just white holes where his pupils were.

"You're freezing." He noted. "Do you want some more blankets?"

"No," you whispered, unable to take your eyes from his, "I'm okay."

"I can make you warm. Come a little closer."

You shuffled your legs into his, feeling that hue of warmth return. Aerion's features had brightened, no longer the scary monster in the closet, but the man you loved. The man you pined for day after day, now beside you in a bubble of quiet, intimate vulnerability.

"This might be crazy to admit," he breathed, no longer did he feel a rush of anxiety when you listened to him, no longer did he fear he would mess up the words he spoke, "but I love you. I have loved you, for a while."

Your heart had ceased its rhythm for a moment, Aerion's words the sole focus in those few seconds. "And I, you."

Your days were taken by Aerion, as his were taken by you. You would wake and sleep together, kiss the other goodbye on your way to work, meet for lunch and stay just a few minutes over. He consumed your thoughts, your autonomy, your heart, body, and soul. You were the object of Aerion's desires, there hadn't been a thought that didn't involve you. His mind was held captive by your memory, work on the back burner as he remembered your laughter at his stupid joke.

His father would click in his face, send him reminder emails, all to remind him there was in fact a world outside of you. But it didn't exist to him; he lived in a world without you for years, spent his days and nights in agony wishing for you to be his. And now he had you, he found purpose, he got as he wanted, he would not let his gratitude falter.

Valarr would watch you in concern over coffee, talking as if from another planet entirely. As if you had met the perfect man, and not the parasite his cousin had become.

"Do you not think this is all a bit... sudden?" Valarr frowned, tapping at the sides of his ceramic mug. The sound rang in your ears, taking you from the story you were just telling him of.

"What?"

"You guys seem very in love." Valarr stated.

"We are."

"It's nearly been a month."

You scoffed. "Love doesn't know time, Valarr."

He cared deeply for you, watched you sing and cry and lose your breath with laughter. But he hadn't seen you so in love before. Not to this extent, where you felt antsy without him. Where each moment spent apart felt like a waste of time.

"Just be careful, please." Valarr intoned. "You know my thoughts on Aerion, and I don't think this is healthy."

"And who are you to decide that?" You laughed, gathering your things from the booth beside you. "Call me when you've learnt my love life isn't your business."

And of course, you ran straight to Aerion. Told him all of Valarr's comments, how he felt about your love, how he stuck his nose where it didn't belong. You sat on his lap as he soothed your tearful words, hand dragging up and down your back to calm you.

"He doesn't understand." Aerion whispered. "The poor boy hasn't felt a love like this, he won't understand until he does."

"I just want to be with you, I feel safe with you." You wept onto his shoulder, your salty tears dampening his shirt. "Don't want to leave."

"Then don't. Stay here, leave that wretched job of yours. I earn enough to make you happy, to keep you here with me." His words carried such weight, despite being unaware of the poison laced within them. He was whispering incantations into your ears, to burrow into the folds of your brain, to darken that hue of warmth you saw.

You felt most like yourself with Aerion. Going on walks, watching movies, baking, grocery shopping, visiting him on his lunch break at his office building. You felt both hands leave the wheel when he kissed you goodbye, but the car maintained its speed. It hadn't slowed down when your hands left the wheel, if anything it gathered speed. Your vision blurred, your heart threatened the break the ribcage that guarded it. You felt on the verge of collapse until Aerion would return home, his hands would settle on your cheeks, and all would be right in the world.

Those feelings of derangement would only flare when Aerion was gone, or an obstacle presented itself. And the newest obstacle had been the secretary, disturbing your private lunch break with Aerion.

"Sorry," she peered through the door with a wide grin, a stack of folders in her arm, "your father told me to give you these."

"Just leave them on that shelf." Aerion instructed, his eyes tearing from you for a moment to gesture to the shelf. "Thanks."

Gratitude. For her. Thanking her for the disruption to your conversation. The world paled until the door clicked shut again, and Aerion's hand sat on your knee.

"As you were saying, sweetheart?"

Locking her in her office felt the most reasonable response, hearing her fists slam against the windows as you walked with Aerion to his car once the office building had shut. It felt good, you moved the obstacle. It was necessary.

But it had failed.

Aerion had been called to release her, as he lived the closest. And your blood bubbled beneath your skin.

"No." You spoke. "I haven't seen you all day."

"I know, sweetheart." Aerion always jumped to comfort you, to soothe your every worry as you did him. "But you locked her in, it's been long enough. I'm sure she's learnt her lesson."

Tears burned at your waterline. Aerion was siding with her, choosing her.

"She disturbed us, she can't get away with that. Who knows what else she'll try next?" You fretted, advancing towards him. Your hands rested on his chest, his hands atop yours. A position you assumed when obstructions appeared.

"Feel that?" He whispered. His heart slammed against your palms, a living, breathing reminder of your wishes. Merged into one, spurring him on. "That's for you."

Your heart was clawing its way out of your body, searching blindly for his own. His hands felt safe, secure, as they pulled you closer to him. There was nothing except him in this moment, just the charge of your skin against his.

"I need you." His teeth nipped at the skin of your jaw, grunts falling from his lips. "I want to crawl inside you."

You whimpered, letting him paw at your shirt. The material was nothing short of an inconvenience, he would tear it from you if it wasn't your favourite shirt. But he felt controlled, he saw himself outside of his own body. Biting at your neck, drawing blood and letting it stray down your skin.

"Aerion," you cried, compressed between him and the living room rug.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" He cooed, bunching your skirt up to your hips.

"I need you... please." You breathed into his mouth, your blood marred his lips so deliciously. His smirk shaped his teeth as fangs, you willed him to drink you in more, to consume you.

He burrowed into you, cradling your back as you arched off the floor. You squeezed around him, pulling him into you further, to keep the connection between you both. He set a firm pace into you, breathing his desire into you, as if being inside you simply wasn't enough.