Chapter Text
Rays of sunlight streams through the window where the curtains failed to cover. The previously dimly lit room starts to brighten up as a person sat up from their bed. Long, silky purple hair spilled over the man’s lithe body, his bangs framing his delicate face.
A fair-skinned hand moved to hover on his cheeks, feeling the wet sensation of the droplet of tears that flowed out in his sleep. What could be the reason for his tears?
He does not remember what he dreamed about.
He stretches his arms, moving to stand in order to make his bed that had looked disorganized throughout his sleep. The purple-haired man made his way to the bathroom, turning the lights on. The man studies the reflection of his face in the mirror, crimson eyes looking at his own. He turns the sink on, letting the cool water pool in his cupped hands before splashing it on his face.
After washing his face up, he makes his way to the kitchen, opting to heat up whatever leftover was in the fridge. He eats quietly—yet his mind is anything but.
There was that feeling again.
The sensation that he had lost something that lingers for a long time after he wakes up.
He couldn’t even process the taste of the food, but in the back of his mind, he hears the echoes of someone’s voice reminding him to finish his food—so he did.
He goes to the bathroom again, the warm water making the remaining sleep-haze in his body disappear. He dries his hair, tying it up in a high ponytail with a red braided cord. What material was it made from again? He dressed for the day ahead, a casual attire that still favors his sense of fashion. He made sure to lock his door close on his way out.
The city looks crowded today, as usual. The metro is brimming with people on their way to their workplace, students running in fear of being late for their classes, and others who each have their own agenda for the day.
In the sea of crowds, crimson eyes look around in search of something—or someone.
It was faint now, but he thinks he knew when this feeling had possessed him. The feeling of lingering loss, of always searching for something, someone—a person—who only existed in dreams he can’t remember. Just one night came to his mind.
That night.
The night the stars came falling.
He remembers it vividly.
Standing alone on a hill, dressed in the traditional clothes of their province. The beauty of the night sky—millions and billions of stars reflected in his eyes—had rendered him breathless.
Not even the sight of the comet splitting in the vast sky—the smaller bit turning into a red, fiery color as it starts to fall—made him feel fear. All he did was marvel at the majestic scene—it made something in his heart throb at how unreal that experience was.
It was like a scene from a dream.
Nothing more, nothing less than a beautiful view.