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Diasomnia’s knight was as simple as they come. A nonchalant face, unmoving like stone, with an equally monotonous personality. Their voice was like the blade of a sword, smooth but sharp, yet had a sedative quality that encouraged a peaceful slumber. They were structured, poised: to steer the swordsman into bewilderment was a true skill indeed. However, with each passing day, these dignified qualities would waver. Corroded by a poison that was as beautiful as it was deadly.
Vil Schoenheit had become a figure that he admired, as well as a frequent fixation. He had always been gorgeous at first glance; he practically glimmered when he walked. The same lackluster halls that made everyone else look drab. But him? Those halls were his runway, and everyone else were just members in his audience.
He remembered the first true interaction that he had with the model. It was fresh: as if it happened only moments ago. He had dozed off in the courtyard while practicing his swordsmanship, a habit that was more common than he would’ve liked. When he awoke, he was met with a crowd of people, led by the titular housewarden of Pomefiore.
“You there. The one with his head in the clouds. Get off the ground and move out of the way. We will be using this area for our shoot.” Were the first words he said to him. Authoritative and direct, but not tyrannical as other leaders tended to be. Silver had recognized him instantly, and was surprised when Vil recognized him just as fast.
“You have potential! Potent potential! Those auroral eyes, a strong nose, and perfectly formed lips...you pale in comparison to my beauty, obviously, but you're not bad.” He’d never been faced with someone who so openly described his physical appearance to him. Such things never even crossed his mind.
“Your lack of talent is…astounding. Is your head utterly empty? Are you a mud doll?” Ouch. From complimenting appearances to bluntly stating what he already knew, the third year was audacious and didn’t hold back in his critiquing of others. It instilled the need to not disappoint him even though they were still strangers by technicality.
“Bravo! I knew you could do it! It is lamentable, but your face will not make it into the film. Still, your movements brought this role to life perfectly. That was a good take. You ought to become a stuntman.” Pride—in more than one way. Without even being taught, Silver had learned that every movement required precision, nonetheless that he performed well. For as stern as he was, Vil had a passion for the arts and strived for perfection. His critique of him had hurt before, but it was clear that the intention was not cruelty but of tough love. He knew he had potential, and he wanted Silver to fulfill that potential.
As they concluded the scene, Silver felt a warmth build up from his stomach and into his throat. His chest was constricted, his mouth was dry, and the beat of his heart quickened in pace without the surge of adrenaline.
He didn’t know then, but this was the day he became infected with the poison known as Vil Schoenheit.
It would only grow worse as the days passed. Their interactions were slim, Vil being a year ahead of the other, but every rare chance they got to speak to one another, Silver would end up the same as when they first met: heart pounding and the inability to swallow.
He was clearly a master at masking it, even though he thought he was being as obvious as a sinner in church. He even accidentally admitted his attraction to the other during the Fairy Gala, where Vil told him to embody something beautiful and the only thing Silver could think of was him. He told him to his face that he was his inspiration, but alas, he only took it as simple flattery.
The crush didn’t bother him too much as it stood. It only became a problem if he was around Malleus at the same time. He became inefficient and unable to do his job as Malleus’s protector, which was inconvenient because he had to be on his guard at all times. When he asked his father for advice on how to deal with the situation, he only responded with this—
“You should be honest about your feelings and tell him in person. If you let it fester, it will only grow worse. You’ll be scared in the moment, but once you say it, it will be a huge weight off your shoulders.”
Like most advice he received from his father, he took it to heart. So, when the next day arrived, he set out to do just that.
He saw his first opportunity in the cafeteria. Vil was having a conversation with Pomefiore’s vice housewarden whilst he ate, and towards the end of their meal, the eccentric vice gleefully took his tray to dump it, leaving Vil alone at the table. It was the perfect time.
Without hesitation, Silver stood from his seat and walked over to the housewarden.
“Excuse me, Vil.” He said once he reached the corner of the table. The man’s lilac eyes glanced over with a glimmer of curiosity, and when their eyes met, Silver felt the slightest ping in his chest. He couldn’t back down now. “Do you have a moment?”
“Ah, Silver, wasn’t it?” He remembered with the faintest of smiles. “I suppose I could spare some time. What do you need?”
“Well, the truth is, I-“ The screeching of the intercom cut him off, the two of them looking up in surprise.
“At this time, I need all housewardens to make their way to the library for an emergency meeting. Again, all housewardens to the library at this time.”
The intercom shut off, and as small bead of sweat dripped down Silver’s temple, he whipped his head around to see Vil standing from his seat.
“Hold that thought, Silver.” He said with a pause. “I need to head to the library. Catch me later in the day and tell me then.”
“Oh-I mean, of course.” He stepped back to let Vil through, a hint of disappointment in his tone. A sigh escaped his lips as he frowned.
“Can’t be helped.” He thought to himself. “I’ll just tell him at a later time. It’ll give me some time to think of what I need to say.” Convincing himself that it was a blessing in disguise, he fixed his posture and returned to the table with the rest of Diasomnia.
The next opportunity he had was during club hours. He had gotten permission from Riddle to leave a few minutes early under the guise of discussing information with a housewarden. It wasn’t a lie, per se, but he had no intention of telling Riddle of all people that he wanted to confess to Vil Schoenheit. Vil needed to be the first person he told; he didn’t want him to find out through the grapevine.
Making his way to the Film Research Club, he noticed the blonde standing with a camera, scrolling through photos or film that another student had shot. It didn’t appear like they were recording anything huge yet, so Silver took the opportunity to talk to him then.
“Vil.” He called his name, hoping it was enough to gain his attention. Once more, those bejeweled eyes of his glanced over, peering through a curtain of lashes. The look made Silver swallow his tongue.
“Hm? Oh, Silver!” He returned the camera to the younger student and shooed him away. “Perfect timing. We just finished filming our last segment. I assume you intend to continue our conversation from lunch?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.” He spoke slowly, trying to calm his beating heart. The housewarden waved the statement off casually.
“Not at all.” He said while crossing his arms. “What can I do for you?” He swallowed once more, mentally preparing himself for the next set of words.
“What I wanted to say was-well, what I’ve been meaning to say, is that I really-“
*CRASH*
The two whipped their heads around at the sound of something breaking. A little ways away was a suspiciously avoidant group of boys who anxiously stole glances at their club leader. On the ground at their feet was a camera; the lens and body shattered to pieces.
At the sight, Vil’s perfect face twisted into instant anger. He wasted no time in disciplining his underlings, turning with hands on his hips.
“What did you all do?!” He shouted sternly, the boys trembling at the sight.
“We-we just wanted to look at the results, and then we tried to put it on the tripod and-“
“That is a 1,500 thaumark camera that was so graciously gifted to us by the school! That lens is 150 thaumarks on its own and you just-“ He clenched his fists, voice hissing as he forced his mouth shut. Releasing a breath to calm himself, his hardened gaze shook the group once more.
“…Vil, we’re sorry-“
“Stop.” He harshly cut off. “Instead of wasting your breath on a useless apology, you could be cleaning up the mess that you caused, and, you know, at least attempt to recover the camera you broke?!”
“Y-YES, SIR!” The boys immediately bent down to pick up the camera and Vil, once again, freaked out at the sight.
“No, don’t touch it with your bare hands, that is glass! Use a broom! A. BROOM!” He groaned in frustration, his head falling back as he did his best to not pull his hair out. Silver bit his lip, awkwardly standing behind the taller as Vil scolded the careless group of boys.
“Um, Vil-“
“Not now, Silver.” He snapped, making the younger flinch back. Vil’s face immediately softened, a guilt showing from releasing his anger on someone who had no hand in the matter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so crass with you. I just…I now have to deal with these buffoons, and write a damage report on the materials we lost.” He watched his face pale, then replaced with a heated red. “Oh, and they better hope to seven that the memory card is not damaged!” He rubbed his temples in irritation, Silver standing silently as he pondered what to do.
“I could…come back another time?”
“If you could, I would…appreciate that greatly.” The Diasomnia student nodded in understanding, though was left disappointed again after being interrupted. Vil must’ve sensed this as he shook his head.
“I really do apologize. It’s not fair to you.”
“It’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He bowed respectfully before bidding him farewell, hearing Vil scold the students again as he walked away.
No matter. He’ll just find….another time to tell Vil how he felt. Maybe it was something that had to wait until tomorrow. It was getting late, and he doubted that he would be able to leave Diasomnia past curfew.
He sighed. Tomorrow then.
The following day, Silver woke up on time for once—determined to express his feelings for Vil once and for all.
Lilia informed him on what his first class was, and was able to catch him before the bell. He spotted him alongside two other Pomefiore students outside of the history class.
“Vil! I know it’s early, but if I may-“
“Apologies, Silver. I need to get these two spudlings to the headmage for a proper punishment. As you know, the use of magic for combative purposes is not allowed in an unsupervised environment unless granted permission by a teacher or housewarden. Which they did not have.” He sent a glare to the freshman, who cowered in fear. “I know you’ve been needing to speak with me. Come to me whenever you’re free. I’ll surely be available at some point today.” Silver nodded, content with the instructions given.
“Understood.” And with that, Vil dragged the insubordinate boys in the other direction. Silver sighed.
“It’s alright.” He told himself once more. “He said I could talk to him whenever I’m free. That means he intends to talk to me for sure.” So, the second year turned on his heel and made his way to class. There was still plenty of daylight left, so there was no reason to be hasty.
The next time he saw him was when they were transitioning from Potions class.
“Hello, Vil. Are you free?”
“Unfortunately not. I’ve been asked to give a demonstration for the freshman by Professor Crewel. Apparently, none of them have the brain capacity to comprehend a simple equation.”
No problem. Next time then.
In the lunchroom…
“Hello again. Mind if I sit with you?”
“I’m actually about to leave. I have a meeting with my manager in a couple of minutes. We could talk after?” Silver frowned, frustration imminent.
“I…actually have training after this.”
“I see. At a later time, perhaps?”
“Yeah…later time…”
In the library…the two reached for the same book, surprising one another.
“Oh, Silver.” Vil began, startled by the unexpected touch of his hand. “Are you also looking for the second edition of Spells, Curses, and Other Incantations?” The boy with auroral eyes gulped.
“I was….fath-I mean, Lilia suggested I give it a read.”
“For once, Lilia has good taste. It’s a fascinating book; puts you in the headspace of many mages that came before.”
“I see…” The queen held the embroidered book in his hand before offering it to Silver. He took it graciously. “Thank you…”
The two stood for a moment before Silver looked up through his bangs.
“…busy?” The pitiful smile that formed on Vil’s face was symbol enough. His pink and blue eyes lowered down. “…right…”
“I’m sorry…I was studying for an exam next period and I mustn’t lose focus.”
“I understand. We only have a few minutes before the next class anyway. I won’t bother you.” And with that, Silver bowed and said, “Thank you for the book.” And walked away from the object of his affection.
By the end of the school day, Diasomnia’s poor knight was falling further into doubt. Mentally, he was prepared to lay his heart out for Pomefiore’s queen, regardless on if they accepted his feelings or not, he was prepared to rush in head on. If he didn’t do it soon, he knew he would just fall farther—further down into the toxic waters until he couldn’t swim anymore, and it filled his lungs in one swift wave. When he thought about it, it seemed silly, but it was true. Never had he felt such warmth in his chest that hurt as much as it did comfort him. When Vil was in sight, his heart soared. When he spoke, he wanted to lay down and listen like he did pouring rain on glass windows. When they touched, electricity ran through his body, numbing his thoughts and speech. If someone else had caught Vil’s attention, his hands would go stiff and bite his lips.
His father had warned him the first love was always a treacherous one; exhilarating, yet agonizing.
He was beginning to understand why. He wanted to know Vil’s thoughts as much as he wanted to express his.
Classes went by as they normally did, and the two didn’t cross paths again. When the last bell rang, the only thing he could think of was to go to Pomefiore directly. He was growing more and more antsy by the minute; his thoughts wandered aimlessly to every possible outcome, good or bad. The anticipation was killing him, not that anyone would know based on outward appearance alone.
As planned, Silver headed straight to the Fairest Queen’s dorm after his last class was done. He couldn’t stay for long, but any amount of time that Vil would give him would be more than enough to just simply say, “Vil, I like you.” So, with a surprising amount of gall, he walked right up to those large decorative doors and gave three firm knocks. Not a moment later, the doors opened to reveal the boy with the blonde bob and equally off-putting personality.
The man smiled brightly, eyes creasing closed as they usually did.
“Ah, Monsieur Sleepyhead! What brings you to Pomefiore on such a beautiful day?”
“Hello, Rook.” He stated simply. “I actually wanted to speak to Vil. Is he around?” Rook nodded his head yes, giving Silver a glimmer of hope.
“He is. Our dearest Vil is currently tutoring the Pomefiore freshman in the art of potion making. Professor Crewel’s final is in a couple of weeks, and we both know how incredibly difficult it was to pass!”
“Yes, I remember.” He stated in acknowledgement, a hint of worry creeping through the corners of his mind. “Do you think he has a moment to speak?” He watched as the blonde looked up in thought, a hand coming up to his chin. A little while after, he shook his head with a frown.
“Apologies. I can’t give you a definitive answer.” His lack of a response gave Silver little hope, until he opened the door wider with an extended hand. “But you are more than welcome to ask him yourself!”
“Oh, thank you.” Locks of gray hair draped over his face as he bowed to the other, stepping foot into the marbled halls, each step echoing off the equally elaborate walls.
Silver heard a commotion in the distance, muffled by the vastness of the space. As he peered around the corner, he found the common room was littered with Pomefiore members. They held notebooks, textbooks, some even had vials with a liquid Silver didn’t even want to guess the contents of. They ranged from focused to panicked, and those who panicked were immediately corrected by their adamant housewarden.
Even with such sternness, Vil was a beauty to behold.
He heard himself sigh, smitten with the figure, not realizing that it was done out loud to the point of Vil whipping his head in his direction. At seeing Silver, he watched those amethyst eyes widen with recognition, and Vil swiftly directed the attention of the boy next to him to something else before strutting his way over. A polite smile graced his features.
“Silver, how kind of you to stop by.” To his surprise, the tone seemed genuine, and not the expected forced courteousness that comes with hosting a guest. He didn’t announce his arrival after all, he was hardly expecting a warm welcome. As usual though, Vil continued to prove him wrong in the best possible way.
“…ver? Silver?”
“Wha-huh?” He jolted awake, though he didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. He put a hand to his head, beginning to feel embarrassed at having done this in front of someone as reputable as Vil. “Sorry….I didn’t realize I had drifted off.”
When Vil started laughing, he looked up with an oblivious stare. It was equally haughty as it was vibrant, and it was endearing how the gloss of his manicured nails matched the shine of the lips they so gently presented as his head tilted back.
“Unless you’ve begun to sleep with your eyes open, I fail to see your connection.” Silver blinked…still oblivious.
“…huh?”
“Always with your head in the clouds.” Vil playfully teased. “Although I know it is a habit of yours, I assure you that you didn’t fall asleep on me.” Silver blinked, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.
“I…I didn’t?”
“Not at all.” He leaned in, corners of his mouth peaking in delightful curiosity. “Though, I suppose, you might as well have been.” He stayed perfectly still as the blonde pressed a pointed finger to his forehead. “What goes on inside that pretty head of yours that distracts you so?”
“I-well, that’s-“ He swallowed a lump in his throat.
“What distracts me is your gentle smile, dreamy eyes, fastidious personality and your commitment to bettering yourself and others without compromising your morals and I think that’s beautiful.”
That would've been a perfect segue into his confession if he had said it out loud instead of thinking it like an idiot.
Vil giggled, backing away with the same smile.
“Relax, I’m only teasing you.” He said, raising an elegant hand to his equally elegant face. “Though the color in your face is a nice look. It matches the pink hue in your eyes.” He lightly referenced the multicolored orbs that resided in Silver’s eye-sockets, Silver bashfully bringing his hand up to his cheek to graze the skin near said eyes. He noticed he was warm to the touch, and his hand quickly fell back to his sides as to not draw attention to himself. Vil chuckled at the sight, visibly humored by the normally stoic boy being flustered.
They stood in silence for a few minutes before Vil cleared his throat, grabbing Silver’s attention.
“Anyways,” He began, eyes closing as he regained composure. “State your business in Pomefiore. Though I feel I already know the answer.”
“Oh, yes, well…” He cleared his throat as well, straightening his back and erasing the emotion off his face. “I would like to talk to you.”
“So you’ve stated.” He snickered again. “Well, speak. You’ve gained my attention, might as well keep it.”
“Right…” Silver opened his mouth, prepared to speak, but shut it quickly as he scanned the room. If he was going to do this, he had to be sure that he wouldn’t get interrupted like every other time.
It was quiet, aside from the murmurs of the Pomefiore students, and everyone appeared preoccupied with their textbooks and potions. He waited a few minutes to fully test the theory that he would be able to speak without a sudden outburst. Everything was still…in order.
He took a deep breath. Now or never, he supposed.
“Vil,” He began directly, attempting to not sound nervous, but even if his voice didn’t fail him he noticed the small twitches in his fingers. “I have been meaning to talk to you about…you.”
“Me?” Vil raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Everything….I guess.” He averted his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with the eyes that stared so intensely at him. “Well, it’s more of how I feel about you.”
“…have I done something distasteful to you? I appreciate the honesty, if so. I know I am not everyone’s cup of tea-“
“Huh? Oh, no! Not at all! It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s…the opposite, actually. I find you…very-“ Suddenly, the grandiose doors were thrown open, with a disheveled Epel in it’s entrance.
“VIL! YA GOTTA HURRY THEY NEED YA HELP QUICK!” Silver watched as Vil’s amusement slipped from his face, replaced with annoyance, before he turned a quick huff.
“What is it, Epel? Can’t you see I’m having a discussion with a guest? And what have I told you about remaining calm in dire situations? Panicking affects your ability to convey necessary information properly. And fix your clothes….”
“Not now, Vil!” The feisty freshman spat. “One of them idjits over there spilt some of that chlorine fluorine whatchamacallit and that stuff’s burning through the floor faster than a hot knife through butter!” The Diasomnia student blinked confused, only a few words being legible to him, but he watched as Vil sighed with disapproval.
“Chlorine trifluoride, Epel.” Then it dawned on him, eyes blinking open in shocked fury. “They spilt chlorine trifluoride?!”
“THAT’S WHAT I SAID, IDN’T IT?!!”
“Oh for the love of-just how incompetent are you potatoes?!”
“Quit your yappin’ and get yer butt over here!”
“Don’t you take that tone with me!” Vil scolded as Epel turned around to assist whatever mayhem had just happened. Vil groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He turned to Silver, then to the door, repeatedly as it was clear his brain was trying to finalize which way to go. As irritating as it was, Silver looked up to him with a small frown.
“That sounded important.”
“Yes it did.”
“You should go. I’ll…catch up with you later.” The other groaned, disheartened by the truth of the matter. He turned to Silver sadly.
“…later then.” And with that, Vil went straight into housewarden mode, shouting orders to the others as he sprinted to the next room. Silver always liked watching him take initiative. He had a presence that rivaled Malleus, which was a rare feat indeed.
Once again though, Silver’s words were forced to halt with Vil being forced away from him. It was…frustrating. At this point, he just wanted to get this confession of his over with. He was so close this time.
He walked back slowly to Diasomnia, the sky turning a deep maroon as the sun transcended past the trees. Stars were already appearing, showcasing just how late in the day it was. He sighed to himself again.
“Perhaps this is a sign. Maybe this is something that isn’t meant to be.” He walked through the mirrors and entered the cold, thorn infested castle of the nobility dorm. “A relationship with Vil is only achievable in my wildest dreams…”
As he was making his way up the stairs he suddenly paused. He blinked his eyes open, a visible spark being lit in his eyes.
“In my….dreams…” He repeated back to himself slowly.
…this was a crazy idea.
Quick to action, he sprinted the rest of the way, passing some curious bystanders, going to his room and locking the door. It didn’t take long for him to sit on the bed and close his eyes.
“Those I’ve met and will someday…” He recited out loud. “Meet in a Dream.” In a flash of blinding light, specs of pink and blue emanated from the body of Silver as he quickly dissipated into thin air.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the familiar landscape of rose-colored clouds and cerulean skies. Disembodied chirps of an unknown bird echoed of nothing, like the calls of a whale in the deepest of seas.
“Okay, Silver.” He heard himself say, though he did not speak. “Time to make your dream a reality.” And so he floated amongst the clouds, the gravity low as he unrealistically bounced on the puffs of pink, in search of the dream that would link his mind to the queen of tenacity.
He didn’t know how long he searched. How long was he in the dream world? Everything was warped in a world where anything was possible. Any imagination could become reality.
Suddenly, without warning, Silver slipped through the clouds, droplets of water hitting his face as he fell through. A gravity too real pulled him down, the force of the wind forcing his eyes closed as he winced. There was no ground to fall to, no danger, and yet his stomach flew up to his throat as he feared a death that wouldn’t come.
Thunder. Lightning. Cotton candy clouds were replaced with storm clouds. Everything turned a dreary gray as the rain picked up the pace.
And then…nothing.
There was no landing that he could remember—last he checked he was still falling. Yet he blinked once and suddenly he was standing again. A thunderstorm roared both below and above him, but no rain fell against his skin. Instead of blue, the sky was a royal purple with shimmering waves like a sequined fabric.
Silver glanced around with interest.
“…interesting.” He notes, intrigued by the storm that he saw and heard but didn’t feel. “I wonder what-“ He turned his head and instantly stopped.
In the distance was a figure, though he couldn’t quite make it out. It was shadowed by the dark clouds that lingered in the air around it.
Silver stared at it, trying to decipher what to do next. He tilted his to get a different view, the figure did the same. He leaned to the other side, the figure copied him. He raised a hand, the same thing happened.
“…huh…” Squinting, he took a step forward, and the figure did the same.
Step. Step.
Step. Step.
The closer he got, the closer the figure did. Before long, he was standing right in front of the figure, and he was staring into the eyes of a boy that he knew, with silver hair and multi-colored eyes.
“It’s a mirror.” He concluded as he looked further at his reflection. He put his hand on the mirror, getting a feel for how large the surface was. While he looked, his head fell back, and the reflective surface reached all the way to the sky. It distorted at times, the mirror reflecting back different parts of the sky. Silver was amazed.
“A mirror…castle?” He questioned as he observed the structure in all it’s glory. “That’s…incredible.” He then squinted. “…how do I get inside?”
Looking back to his reflection, his fingers found his way to the mirrors once more. He felt around the wall, moving gradually to the right as he scanned the whole area. Before long, he found what he was looking for. His reflection, which had been their the whole time, suddenly had a dark cut down the middle.
“There’s the door.” Though it had no handle, he stuck his fingers into the crease and pulled back, the mirrors moving like a door would. He stared into the void that presented itself behind the reflective palace. He took a breath and walked in.
When he stepped forward, he was met with a more elaborate structure than what showed on the outside. The walls were curved with intricate details of flora and garland carved into molding. The windows were from ceiling to floor, and the glass was tinted purple which contrasted the gold on the inside. When he looked up, a beautifully painted fresco encased the dome, gilded cartouche lining the outside.
“Wow. Seventeenth-Century Baroque.” He chuckled to himself. “It’s so luxurious looking…this has to be something of Vil’s creation.” He started walking forward, the lacquered wood flooring beneath him repeating each step he took. It seemed to stretch on for ages, a multitude of criss-crossing staircases presenting itself the closer he got.
“I better start searching.” He said aloud. “I’ll never find Vil at this rate.” And so he trekked up the stairs, the storm outside muffled by the enclosed space.
Right when he was starting to feel like giving up, a sound caught his attention, the first sound aside from the storm and echoes of his footsteps that he had heard since entering. There was music—a piano? Bells? No, it was more reminiscent of a music box. It was eerie; it was as if the term ghost was a descriptor of sound. With no other lead, he followed the notes of the illusory waltz, leading himself down a darkened hall.
The source of the music came from the ballroom, which was just as ornate and decorative as the rest of the castle. The windows were instead replaced with mirrors, and it was the only room that was aglow. Not by candles or lamps, but of a gold and violet mist that vaguely formed the shapes of humans adorned with ballgowns and tuxes.
In the middle was Vil: the only corporeal figure in the room. His hair was loose, clean-faced and lacking the usual eyeshadow he wore. It looked like he was wearing a dress, but when he moved it was clear they were pant legs that only resembled a skirt. The pants were loose, but the shirt was like a bodice that hugged his torso comfortably. It was the same royal purple as the sky outside, with touches of black as accents. On top of all of that there was a…shawl? A robe? Something sheer that dropped over his shoulders and down to the floor. He had each end in both hands, and when he twirled the flowed like the gowns worn by the ghostly figures dancing across the room.
Silver made no hesitation to begin his walk towards the housewarden. Like every time that came before this, his mouth became dry and his throat clenched shut. He was nervous, scared even. He was aware that this time, in a dream, there would be no interruption. No one to prevent what was now inevitable.
He was now at arms length. It was time.
“…Vil?”
“KYAAAAH!!!” He screeched, making Silver jumped. The music stopped, and the glowing specters broke and dropped to the floor—shattering like glass. The light was gone, and so Vil’s mind had to adjust to the sudden change.
“…Silver?” He finally recognized, the room becoming lit again as the nightmare faded into a pleasant dream once more. Vil let out a relieved breath, grabbing his heart. “Goodness, you scared the daylights out of me…”
“I’m sorry.” He apologized, leaning in to check if Vil was alright. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The model looked up to him, those damn gorgeous eyes captivating him once again. He realized he had never seen the other without makeup before, and he was…stunning. Literally glowing. His eyelashes leaned more towards brown instead of their usual black, his lips a pale pink, and his skin held no visible blemishes and was near perfect.
His natural features complimented him well.
“Oh, Silver, what on earth are you doing here?” Vil asked with an exasperated sigh. “I was living out the fantasy of waltzing in a ballroom with only my sleepwear on.”
Ah. So that’s what this dream was.
“Sorry for disturbing you.” He said again. “I figured…this was the only way I could talk to you.”
“This again.” He said in one breath, though it didn’t sound annoyed. More…melancholic, or empathetic. “Oh, I’ve really fallen deeper down the rabbit hole, haven’t I?”
“Well I-excuse me?”
“Perhaps I’m a horrible person.” He sighed as he sat down, hand propping up his head. “Of course, it’s not entirely my fault. I’m consistently pulled in all directions during the day, and that is out of my control. I am one person after all.” His eyebrows furrowed upwards, softening his features. “And yet…I feel a guilt. Because I have the power to turn such things away and yet I didn’t because…I wanted you to come back.”
Silver’s eyes widened, surprised at what the figure in front of him was saying.
“…what?”
“You really are a spectacle, you know?” He spoke to him, but not directly. As if he was dreaming within the dream itself. “Looks are superficial, though I won’t deny how handsome you are. With your moonlit hair and sunset eyes…” He smiled, corners of his lips rising into a look of nostalgia. “But it’s you, everything about you that draws me in the most.”
Silver swallowed a lump in his throat.
“You’re dreamy, in every sense of the word. Your head is always somewhere else, floating off to who knows where. You fall asleep in the strangest of places without warning. Your face, expressionless as it is, holds so much…charm. You work hard: you’re diligent, devoted, and you hold such high regard for people around you…there truly is nothing more admirable than that.” Another sigh escaped his lips, a humored, though fake chuckle following.
“Look at me…expressing my feelings to some literal dream boy. You’re not even real. Just a figment of my imagination. How absolutely juvenile…”
Wait….dream boy? Did Vil think Silver was just…another element in his dream?
…oh no. Silver was not actually supposed to hear that.
A flush spread across his pale features, ears turning pink and eyes permanently stuck to the size of saucers. He bit his knuckle, unaware of how to continue this expedition of his.
He decided that he should start with the truth.
“Um…Vil?” He started hesitantly, only barely audible to the person sitting in front of him. “You know that I’m…I’m not a part of your dream…right?” At the mention, Vil looked up to him with a confused squint, obviously finding this response from him odd. Silver cleared his throat and tried again. “I…I’m Silver. The real Silver. I’m using my Unique Magic to talk to you…in your dream. I’m real.”
Those last few words hit Vil like lightning, and Silver watched his face go from generally relaxed and comfortable to one of horrified realization.
“…oh my seven…”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…my seven…” Vil covered his face with his hands, shaking eyes peeping up through the gaps of his fingers. “This is a cliche. I’ve cornered myself into a cliche. That’s such…rubbish! Oh, now I’m the stupid potato!” He screamed in his hands, actively turning away from the boy he accidentally confessed to. Silver, though still embarrassed, bent down to be at his level, trying to ease the tension. He extended his hand, offering it to the person next to him. Vil noticed it, but promptly turned away, his humiliation being more obvious without the makeup he usually had on.
“…Vil…” He treaded gently, as if to a lost child. “Vil, I…I appreciate the words you’ve said. No one has ever said such things to me before.”
“Yes, well, they weren’t exactly words I wanted you to hear.” He went defensive, before his shoulders slumped. “…what are you doing here anyway?” The same words repeated to him lingered longer in his head, a sudden gust of wind blowing through them.
“I…” He started normally. “I needed to talk to you.” At the mention, he saw the smallest of smirks on Vil’s face.
“Persistent, are you?” He chuckled quietly, finally turning to face Silver. “…might as well. What’s this talk that you so desperately want to have with me?”
His amethyst eyes, gentle expression, everything remained the same, and yet it shook Silver to his core. Any planned speech went out the window.
“I like you.” He finally said, after days of pining. Vil blinked in surprise.
“What was that?”
“I like you, Vil. For awhile now. I am enamored by your existence—your presence takes my breath away. I’ve found myself attracted to every part of you, and all I want is to stay by your side, because being with you makes me feel…awake. And I-“
“Stop, stop, STOP!” Vil quickly shushed, pressing his hands over Silver’s mouth. He looked at the hands, then up to Vil, who had a deep red blush on his cheeks. He offered a shaky smile. “I wasn’t prepared for such a poetic confession—great seven.” His hands dropped from Silver’s mouth, the knight choosing to keep his mouth shut, before the same hands moved to fan Vil’s face. The blonde laughed in spite of himself. “Phew, you’ll make me swoon!”
Silver blinked obliviously.
“…Is that…a good thing?”
“Absolutely. Not just anyone can make me blush the way you do.” This in turn made Silver blush.
“…oh…”
“Relax. I’m teasing.” He laughed one last time before he finally placed his hand in Silver’s, Silver instinctively rising to his feet to assist Vil up. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” From where they stood, Vil’s elegant pupils side-eyed the silver-haired prince from beside him.
“…you know,” He caught his attention. “I’ve never exactly been interested in relationships…but, if you’re interested…” He turned his head, a playful smirk gracing his features, yet a certain allure to his eyes. “We could test the waters.”
This shocked the other.
“You mean…like boyfriends?”
“Sure. I mean, you’ve already stated that you want to stay by my side.” The glint in his eyes returned as he hovered in front of Silver’s face, taking control over the dream that Silver had invaded. “What if I let you?”
Silver gulped, becoming flustered by the sentences. His eyes were focused on Vil’s, but Vil’s eyes lowered to Silver’s lips, eyelashes fluttering with intense focus.
Suddenly, before anything could happen, an ear-piercing sound blared around them, shaking the entire ballroom. It was continuous, annoying, like an…
“That’s my alarm.” Vil stated, looking up to the ceiling. “It’s morning.”
Morning? Already?! Oh no, he had to be quick about this.
“Vil, listen-“ He spoke swiftly. “When I wake up, I won’t remember the conversation we had. It’ll all just be a dream.” He looked at him seriously, gripping Vil’s hands in his. “You need to make me remember. Convince me. Any way you can!” Everything around them, including Vil, started to fade away like a fog. “Remember to talk to me!” And then, everything went dark.
Vil awoke the next day, groggily rubbing his eyes as he stared at the ceiling. The dream he had came in flashes, and with each memory, his cheeks got darker and darker. He grabbed his covered and pulled them over his face. The giddiness he felt bubbled up and through his body, kicking the blankets excitedly with a squeal. After the surge, he flattened the blankets with a frown.
“Get it together, Vil. You’re not a child!” He scolded, disapproving of his own behavior. “Besides, this isn’t the end. You need to have a talk with Silver, remember?”
With a goal in mind, the housewarden prepared for the day with purpose. Adorned in his usual uniform, he grabbed his things and made his way to his classes.
Throughout the day, he kept an eye out for Diasomnia’s knight. Didn’t matter if he was preoccupied with a prior commitment, he was prepared to tell Silver how he felt…for real this time.
Hours passed, and Vil was now in the courtyard working on some homework between classes. Mentally, he was exhausted. The boy had yet to make an appearance—he hadn’t even seen him with Malleus, whom he was always around!
He groaned, tapping his pencil against his lip.
“Come on, Silver. How long will you keep me waiting?” He thought to himself. “You said to talk to you, so where are you?” His head slumped in his hands, discouraged from the whole ordeal.
Suddenly, a little ways away, Vil noticed a figure emerging from the trees. He yawned, but then startled himself awake when he realized he was dozing off.
He grinned, immediately dropping his things to make his way to boy in front of him. When he caught Silver’s attention, the other turned to face him.
“Vil!” He called out, working up to a light jog. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Vil smirked at seeing the determination in his eyes.
Cute. He thinks he still needs to confess to him.
“Funny,” The blonde said, teasing look taking over his expression. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you too.” His fingers came up, gently tilting Silver’s head back, before he placed a delicate kiss on the other’s lips. His eyes widened in shock, clearly confused at the action.
When they broke away, Vil almost bursted into a fit of laughter at the bewildered expression that Silver had.
“Wha-wha-wha-“ The normally articulate boy stuttered with a reddening face. “W-why, I mean-“
“Don’t you remember?” He playfully said, tilting his head up again. “You’ve already told me your feelings, Silver. I know.”
“I-I have? You do?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “You told me in a dream.” Vil winked at the comment, relaying to Silver the exact message he was sending.
“Oh…yes…I-I do remember using my magic…on someone.”
“Don’t think too hard on it.” He grabbed the boy’s hand, Silver still stunned into silence. “We can talk about it over lunch.”
With a gentle guidance, Vil walked Silver to the cafeteria, where the two sat alone for the first time. From across the table, Vil enthusiastically prepared to tell the story of how him and Silver met…once upon a dream.