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“You’ve come, gege.”
This is what he hears when he closes his eyes and succumbs to slumber. Every night, the entity expects his return from the surface. It doesn’t have a permanent form. Its voice changes every single time and speaks an unfamiliar language that, strangely, he can understand. Its touch varies according to what it wants. At first, it terrified him to have such an entity locked inside his consciousness; how could something so impossible exist there? Was he so deprived of human connection that it made an imaginary friend?
He doesn’t know what it is, and it scares him to even try to comprehend it, but he grows attached to his nightly visitor.
Tonight, he doesn’t understand what he sees, but he knows it’s coming closer. He feels the cold, fleeting pinches and caresses. Colors blow like smoke towards him in many directions. When it reaches his skin, sparks crackle like lightning around him.
“You’re excited,” he chuckles, euphoric while he watches green smoke combust into tiny sparks as it touches his hand. “What’s the agenda for today?”
“We will dance.” The calmness in its velvety voice contrasts its energy. This is its favorite voice because it uses this when he comes late to comfort him.
A gentle wind blows behind him, nudging him forward. The tingles he gets makes him chuckle. “Well, you must teach me, then. I can’t dance.”
“Yes, you can.” Swirls of white mist encircle his arms, torso, and legs, hoisting him into a ballerina’s arabesque. He couldn’t stop himself from giggling. He looked ridiculous. The mild throbbing of parts he rarely used reminds him how rigid and untrained his body is for what it wants.
“I believe you.” He lets it guide him into a slow rhythm, prodding and positioning his body. It hums a lullaby as it moves with him. It catches him when he almost stumbles and cradles him with tender, silky touches.
“See? You can dance, more so when you’re dancing with an expert.” They glide sideways and turn.
“Always so proud of yourself,” He snickers as it raises his arm and twirls him.
“Only when you’re here.”
He guffaws. “You’re so sappy. Are you ever going to stop that?”
“Never.” He could hear its grin. “Not with you.”
Chimes of a bell disrupt their little dance. They break apart reluctantly.
“You’re quick to wake these days,” it remarks as gusts of air fondle his cheeks.
He chuckles bitterly. “There’s just so much to do.”
“Just think of your arabesque,” — he snickers when it says this — “our dance, our nights.” A force tugs on his arm. “Stay for a while.”
“I have to go,” he cups the air around his arm. “You know that.”
Light creeps through the edges of the surrounding darkness. He hears it heave a sigh. “Hurry back, gege.”
He smiles and nods. “Okay.” He looks around, watching as its kaleidoscope of colors disappear into white, the only sign that it had been there throughout the night. Light swallows his vision as he wakes.
Beep. Beep. Beep.