Chapter Text
“-artin? Earth to Martin Blackwood?”
“Yes- Huh?” Martin squeaked, snapping out of his already fading daydream. “I-Yes?” He didn’t quite remember what the dream was about, so he spent a few more dazed moments trying to recall it. It wasn’t a good dream, though he had the faintest memory of the most dazzling eyes he had ever seen…
Then Martin then realised that his roommate was still trying to talk to him, and he frowned.
“You alright?” asked Tim, stopping the waving of his hand in front of Martin’s face. “You looked like your soul left your body or something for a second there, got us kinda worried.” Martin looked up to see Tim’s girlfriend, Sasha looking at her phone on the couch.
Martin didn’t remember when she arrived.
Chuckling nervously, he responded, “I’m probably just tired.” With an unimpressed but also concerned look, Tim gestured at the scarf Martin was working on.
“Is that scarf supposed to be a gift for a giraffe?”
“Ah. I guess it is a little longer than I expected.”
“You’ve been knitting that… abomination for about two hours now, Martin.” Tim sighed.
The two of them shared a painfully awkward silence before Tim spoke again. “Hey, I get that you’re tired. Maybe a bit burned out, I suppose. It happens. But Sasha and I are going to this party tonight at Melanie’s, soooo…. Just my suggestion, I think you could do with some fresh air. When was the last time you’ve gone out to do something fun again?”
Putting away the failed scarf, Martin sighed. It has been a while since he’s talked to anyone besides Tim. ‘Perhaps some fresh air will do me some good.’ He considered. ‘It’s better than wasting my time moping around daydreaming.’
“Fine, I suppose I’ll go, not like I have anything better to do, really.” Martin finally shrugged.
Tim beamed, “That’s the spirit. Who knows, you might even meet someone!”
==
‘So. You are at a party your roommate and his girlfriend invited you to. And now you’re alone while they’re off getting drinks or snogging or something. Great.’ Martin thought sombrely. ‘Really splendid, considering that you don’t feel like drinking or god forbid, talking to someone. I guess I’ll just stand here and wait for them to come back.’
Leaning on the wall awkwardly, Martin took out his phone and occasionally pretended he was texting someone. He was mostly just looking at cat pictures, but he supposed it wasn’t like anyone really cared, just his social anxiety giving him the feeling of being watched.
“Ugh,” Martin groaned after refreshing his feed for the third time, “This is pathetic.” He put the phone back in his pocket and looked around in the crowd for Tim or Sasha or even Melanie, who he only knew from her Youtube channel and word of mouth.
It was just a bunch of people he didn’t know. He really wished he stayed home now, he could’ve been curled up with a nice cup of tea, writing poetry about the rain or-
“Those eyes!” gasped Martin suddenly, feeling a surge of recognition from someone in the crowd. The faces in the crowd blurred and focused on the spot where he felt the strange sensation, as if time had suddenly stopped. It was the eyes from the dreams he’d been having recently, the vibrant shade of brown somehow ingrained in his subconscious.
The crowd unblurred all of a sudden, and Martin barely had time to see the strange man turn his head around, his face obscured by his hair.
Martin dropped his empty red cup to the floor, apologetically squeezing past people to find-
==
He was surrounded by fog.
Distantly, Martin could hear waves crashing onto a beach that didn’t exist. He knew it would be logical to scream for help in a situation like this but… who would come? He was alone.
At least it was peaceful. The fog lapped around his knees which were too numb to care, and maybe it would be alright if he just fell asleep for a while, before it gets any colder. He could just lie down and…
“You’re not alone,” A staticky voice echoed around the fog, dissipating it until Martin could feel warmth again. As the fog blew away, Martin started seeing the figure more clearly. There stood a short man with windblown strands of graying hair, whose fogged glasses didn’t hide his kaleidoscope eyes staring straight into Martin’s own. He could make out the silhouette on the man but the eyes were all that he could really look at.
“What?” breathed Martin weakly.
The static became louder, taking up the void Martin suddenly felt himself in 一 A void filled with nothing, not even the fog, just those incandescent eyes 一 and within the static, he heard the voice say almost disappointedly, “You’re just having some idiotic dream.”
==
-him.
“Am I dreaming?” Martin blurted out, suddenly realising his hand was on the guy’s shoulder.
And now everyone was staring at him.
‘Great job Martin! You blew it!’