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He calls it dream logic. In the dream, he knows somehow that this person, this boy, is his gravity, his sun, moon, stars and oceans. He knows hes unfathomable.
Always, Marco notices his eyes first. Green, glittering gold, flecks of orange. He feels like he knows those eyes intimately, yet every time it's like the first time he's seeing them. Those eyes blink slowly at him, and he dares drift closer.
The boy is always on the defensive, shoulders hunched, hands held up as if to block a blow. He looks like a wild animal, so Marco makes his approach slow. Those hands are always bleeding at the heel of his palms, rings indented with teeth. His mouth is smeared in blood, lends him a feral air that marco wants to smooth from him with soft words, soft kisses.
"Your name?" He always asks. "I'm marco."
"What's it to you?" And some how he knows then this is Eren, this is Eren and he'll never love anyone the way he does him, he'll never know skin any sweeter or a voice any more melodious, how could he forget him? How could he possibly forget this beautiful fathomless thing covered in blood?
Marco always wakes then, looks to his pillow, where there is no dark head nestled at the crook of his arm, no soft breath against his neck, slim fingers tracing across his belly.
Marco calls it dream logic. Cause he knows Eren should be there. And also knows he can't be.