Stars, Dreams And Nightmares
Feysand one shot. Just two people fighting their demons, trying to escape them by running. Just two people looking at the stars and mourning for all that is lost. Just two people meeting each other for the first time and letting themselves be swept away on the path fate takes them.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Sarah J Mass
Stars, Dreams and Nightmares
The lights were barely streaks off light but to her, they looked like shooting stars. Splashes of white, green, yellow. Red too, but those just made her flinch. It reminded of the blood. Each time she saw red the image of hitting him on the head with a random statue she’d grabbed for flashed before her eyes. The sight of him thudding to the ground and then the pool of blood that had slowly spread around his head. She’d stared at his back, barely moving, barely even breathing, just waiting for him to wake up. But he never did. As soon as it sunk in that he would never get up, she shot up to her feet, ran to the bedroom and pulled out the bag from under the mattress. Inside she made sure she still had the bus ticket, the cash she’d gotten taken out and some clothes. Within minutes she was out of there. It was all a blur but she got herself to the bus station, got herself on the bus.
That’s how she found herself on the bus right now, trying not to imagine the stream of police cars that must’ve surely reached her house by now. She called the police on her way out, anonymously telling them of the man lying dead in there before tossing the sim card in a trash can.
Looking back out the window, she let herself drift back into a restless sleep filled with blood and gore and then water. She shouldn’t have been surprised her dreams had taken her here but still she was.
It was dark and the roads were empty but her singing and his laughter filled the emptiness. She’d been singing her heart out to Beyonce’s classic, Crazy In Love, when she sensed him sucking in a sharp breath, his laughter cut off and looked down to find the car ripping the bridge's barrier and falling for what felt like hours but was probably mere minutes if that down the small cliff edge before plunging into ice-cold water. The water swallowed their cries for help as water swarmed the car. Sucking in a deep breath, the water reached over her head and she scrambled to get out of the car only to find her legs stuck. Somehow the dashboard had collapsed on her legs, locking her in. She looked over to her side to find him gesturing to stay calm and floating out the car. Her lungs were burning as she watched him swim around the car to her side. It was a poor effort on her side as she tried to push him up, telling him to leave her, but he wouldn't listen. The last thing she saw before the darkness took her was the strong resolve in his eyes, saying that he would rather die than leave her here and at that moment her heart melted knowing they would never have the time to be with each other, to live their lives out in each other’s arms.
The next time she opened her eyes, she was surprised to have done that but seeing the all-white, she guessed she was in heaven. But then the beeping and footsteps and chatter came in and she realised she was alive.
Two months later, she was still recovering but most healed from all her injuries. He had gotten her out despite everything and within a month after the accident, she’d accepted his ring and promised to spend the rest of her life with him. They'd been so happy. So, so happy. She hadn’t ever thought she’d ever get to be this happy but she was. She should’ve known it wouldn’t last. It never did.
After she got out of the hospital, he moved in with her. It was the best month of her life, that one.
The past month, she’d been staying home on his insistence only going out for a walk around the block or just to get some fresh air. He kept saying she should rest and she loved him for it. Until she decided she was ready to start her life again. He had different opinions. They fought and fought, him saying she had no reason to go out, he could provide for both of them, her saying she needed to back to her life. It went on for weeks. And then she decided no more.
A week ago, she made dinner and as he ate, she dared to ask about getting back to college. Instantly his expression turned and it scared her more than anything. A snarl overtook his face and he got up with enough force to make the chair behind fall as he stood, hands slamming on the table. With a low, menacing voice he threatened to lock her in if she tried to go out. She’d been completely stunned, unable to speak. He’d stormed off slamming the door to his bedroom behind him. The week passed during which she started making a plan. Got all her savings out of the bank and within a week she was ready. She was done. She wouldn’t let him control her. That last day, she spent it at a nearby park, just staring at the blades of grass beneath her feet, the kids on the slides and swings, hearing their screams of laughter. She barely heard them and what she did hear, were shards of glass to her ears reminding her of his screams that night so long ago as they’d fallen and how different that had sounded compared to his scream just last week. She’d returned home that night to find him on the couch, ankle crossed over his knee, turning a lock over and over in his hand. As he stood, he asked her where she’d been. She didn’t answer instead moving back, back, back until she hit the table behind her. The corner of his lips lifted, eyes going blank, and he drifted closer. As he came closer her arm moved behind her back, searching for the piece of rock she knew was there. It was a simple, random statue but weighed a shit ton. As he brought his lips to her ear, asking with a whisper where she’d been all day, she swung her arm around from her back and with a scream smashed it on his head.
She woke up still screaming, the few passengers around her looking at her, some worriedly, some irritatingly. Swallowing, she pulled her thin jacket around her tighter, pulling her legs closer to her, trying to make herself as small as possible. Shivering of the horrors she experienced these past months, she cried silently for herself and all that she’d lost.
Flying over the city, he imagined the shining lights of the buildings, cars and street lights were stars. Thousands and thousands of stars. All of it being left behind. He couldn’t stay, after all. Not after what had happened. Not after every single thing about the city reminded him of his mother and sister. The smoothie shop around the corner that his sister used to go to every day before coming home from college. The cafe a few blocks down her work, where Mom would get her daily coffee every morning. The streets they would walk together to get ice cream from a local dairy. Even his house was tainted. Upstairs he would see their bodies, the stains of blood that had his father had spent hundreds on to get cleaned. He’d come home to find them dead that night and a month later, he still dreamed about dragging himself up the stairs to find those horrors. He'd screamed when he saw them. Screamed in shock and anger and grief. They were gone.
Feeling his cheek moisten, he swiped a hand over his face and swallowed. He wouldn’t cry. Not anymore. He closed his eyes, willing his mind to not dream about that night again. He shouldn’t have bothered. If he dreamed that night for the rest of his life, he would deserve it.
The whole night had been a blur of women, liquor and dancing. After a week of punching the son of his family’s long time rivals and heir to the throne, his knuckles were sore, he was exhausted from the adrenaline and ready to fuck some women and drink himself into oblivion. And so that is exactly what he did. News had spread quickly of the heir’s death that day and he knew, starting tomorrow, his family would have to be on alert for the retaliation that was sure to come from their rivals. But this night was his and no one was going to fuck with it. After wrapping up for the day, his friends and he headed to their favourite local bar, Devil’s Lair. It was an easy show of their faces to get them in and it didn’t take them long to get the night started. The women came to him all night as did the continuous stream of glasses upon glasses of whiskey, beer and other shit. They spent hours like that, feeling the beat of the music thrumming through the bar, writhing against sweaty bodies to the beat in their body. With each song and woman and glass, his heart beat faster and faster until he couldn’t feel anything and yet felt it all. Everything shook and moved and thrived and he enjoyed. Every. Single. Second. The music and pleasure and oblivion were a part of him and he welcomed it all with open arms.
It was hours before he felt his friend’s hold dragging him out of the bar. He tried to fight it but only ended up puking on the side road. What could’ve been hours or seconds later, he saw his house and leaving his friends behind, went inside. It was eerily quiet but that was to be expected. His father was away on business as always and his mother and sister were asleep. He dragged himself up the stairs, one by one, and was almost up to the top when he looked up. And froze. His mind blanked, not really processing what was happening. Or refusing too. His lips parted and he let out a choked cry. He shook himself out of his stupor and he clambered up those last couple steps to fall to his knees, his hands feeling the blood soaking through the carpet. His mind cleared and he was instantly sober at the sight before him. His sister, his beautiful sister who would’ve changed the world with her kindness and selfless nature, his sister who thought about everyone else in the world first, then herself. His sister who he would’ve killed for to protect. Dead. She was in his arms, dead. Not moving. Would never laugh or smile or ask for him to do her braids ever again. Dead. He screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he couldn’t anymore. His sister was gone. Suddenly he remembered his mother. Scrambling to his feet, he crossed the distance to his parents' bedroom to find her on the ground as well, in another pool of blood. His legs failed beneath him and he fell. He'd mourned his sister but now, seeing his mother, he felt anger. Hot, raging anger. It consumed him and all he saw was red. Them. His family’s rival had done this. In revenge for the very son, he’d killed that day. It was in that blind rage he spent the next week. And in that week, news quickly spread of South America’s biggest drug lord and his whole family dying, each from brutal wounds that rendered them unrecognisable. Another week, during which the blind rage cleared enough for him to decide that he would never kill again. He booked a ticket out of the city a week and a half from then. He spent that week and a half wrapping up every loose thread here in his home city. Said bye to all the friends he’d made, paid off all his enemies. Called a cousin who had chosen to not get involved in all of this and instead lived far away, living a peaceful life. And then a week and a half later, got on a plane swearing that we would never step foot in that city again and never get involved in that shit again.
There was no one here. She knocked but no one opened the door. She didn’t know why but decided to wait on a bench across the road in case her friend was just out for the night. She must’ve sat there for about twenty minutes before she saw him walk up to the door. She watched, not moving, as he knocked just like she had. Imagined him frowning just like she had, confused why no one was opening the door. She didn’t know who the guy was. His back was to her. Though from the light of the streetlamp, she could see broad shoulders, a long dark coat screaming money and luxury and dark hair that gleamed almost blue in the lighting. She watched as he turned and barely held in her flinch. Oh, she knew him. All of America knew him. She didn’t dare think his name as his eyes fell to hers. She stared for all of five seconds, during which he stood still as a wraith, before breaking eye contact and looking up. Stars. Actual ones this time. There wasn’t a lot, the city lights engulfing most of them like a hungry beast, but the few she did see, calmed her. She didn’t look down as she sensed the man walking up to her. As he put his bag down, sat beside her, stared at her for a few seconds. It felt like time itself paused, the sway of the grass calming down, the cricket sounds slowing down so that it almost sounded sluggish. It felt like someone had pressed the slow-motion button. And then all of sudden, noise, honking, chatter. Just like that, time sped up to normal once again as he stopped staring at her and looked up.
There they were. A man and woman, both broken and running. Just looking at the stars.
He broke the silence first, completely mesmerised by her beauty and becoming increasingly curious about what she was doing sitting on the bench, looking at the stars. “Hello?”
She didn’t move for so long, he thought she might be ignoring him or unable to hear but finally she looked down, turned her head. “Hello.” She said. Her voice was hoarse just like his had been in those first few days after he found his mother and sister dead.
“What’s your name?” He asked after a couple of minutes.
She had looked back up but stared back him now, a haunting look on her face. Swallowing, she looked back up. Her voice was so quiet, her lips barely parting, he nearly missed it but there it was. A small whisper of a word. “Feyre.”
Feyre. The word thrummed through him, entering his veins, warming them. Feyre.
Looking back up at the stars, he said, “I’m Rhysand.”
AN: Don’t ask me what this is. I don’t know. I don’t even know if it makes sense. I hope it does. I hope you liked it. Let me know.
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