#midnight;

So when I napped and I had dreams of people discussing their nostalgia of the nightlife city I once ruled, I was not surprised. And when I got a response in my dream, I didn’t think it would lead anywhere.

The message was rude, blunt. It cut me down. It clearly stated that this person used to be me, the only other me there was, the only good me. That I, as I executed myself, was try-hard, unnecessarily wordy, not up to par. I was not the good me. 

They didn’t know I was me, and I knew that I wasn’t me when they were me--obviously. We weren’t in the midnight city at the same time.

Regardless, the dreadfully romantic side of me clicked in, and I had to check, I had to...

...Because I realized that the only other me there was, was you. And I have been waiting for you, haunted by you, for years. I had no way of contacting you. I had no idea where to reach you.

So I checked. 

And you had reached out. 

Send me 'Happy Easter!' and I'll make a drabble about our muses painting eggs together.

   ( curious she glanced at the member of the dark guild called oracion seis next to her, when a chuckle escaped her small lips, as she noticed the bunch of eggs which were already painted by mignight. albeit he was forced by jellal to do these easter preparations with meredy together he finally seemed to enjoy it. however it wasn’t only about painting eggs but about spending time together to do something good. pushing a cup of light colour to his place she raised her voice. )