Chapter Text
Swerplys somewhere. Just… somewhere. they walk and walk, the environment around him foggy at the tall grass he steps in— their cape dragging on the turf, dirtying itself. Ugh. they have to get a maid to clean that later. Would be complicated to explain, maybe he’ll make an excuse. It feels like he could walk for hours with how long the path stretches on. When they walk through the endless fields, he spots something in the distance— or someone. It’s hard to spot with how windy the air and how thick the fog was, but whenIt’s hard to make out the person— or thing from how thick the fog is and how time feels like it’s looping along with the infinite field, makes things harder to focus. they get closer, they see it. Is that… him? Nor? Wh-why is he here?! But he can’t even question it at this point. Nor was here, and that was all that mattered to him. Why is he here? Wh-whats he doing here? What’s he… When he turns around, it feels like the endless loop of time slows down. And before he knows it, they’re caught in a daze, that long and messy black hair, framing his face perfectly. It’s such a shame they can’t see his face from the black & red plaid scarf he wears around his neck, the one they gave him as a gift, wraps around his neck. The plaid red and black scarf seems to block his face, getting caught in the wind. It’s a shame they can’t see his face cause of the wind, he always loved how he looked. The wind is strong enough to block his face. When he gets caught in the daze, Nor seems to say something, and that makes them snap out, coming back to reality, or not. The wind hits him a second before it blows— which makes them snap out of it.
“-Swerply!”
He calls out, his voice deep. Why does he sound like that? Did they catch that right? He shakes his head, feeling his face turning red, as he looks to the side, fidgeting. What is this… feeling? Why is he so… nervous all of a sudden..? They- They can’t explain it. He tries to distract himself by forcing to look at Nor, but they can’t make out his face with how much the wind is blowing, it hurts to even open his eyes properly. He blinks. Twice. No luck. The wind still stings their eyes. Ugh. Fuck! Quick, respond with something fast! They gulp. with how much it hurts to open his eyes, the wind stinging everytime and all the fog. Think of something. Something casual. Something cool. Something… normal! …GOD! Just… THINK OF ANYTHING! He gulps, opening his mouth and letting the wind guide his words, slow compared to the wind.
“I- uhm… Salutations! Yes, Nor?”
They awkwardly answer, stuffing his hands in his pockets as an attempt to hide the slight shake in his hands. They looked away, flushed. Fuck. Does he look more obvious if he looks away or directly infront? Should he look at him? Should he? They think before glancing back at Nor. He can’t seem to make out his face from this distance, or angle. Should he move closer? He doesn’t want to look desperate. Nor noticed the action, laughing bitterly. He’s looking at me. They open their mouth to say something, but no words come out, like they were stripped of their voice. Swerply could feel his eyes watering. Why? Why? Why why whywhywhy? Why now? To hide how pathetic they probably look, they quickly shake their tears away and try to look at Nor, the tears making it almost impossible to make out his face. Hell, even his figure. On top of that, the cold air burned his nose, made it twitch… each breath sharp and quick. Atleast the wind is slowing down a bit, god. Nors scarf gracefully falls down as the wind gets less intense. Nor doesn’t seem to mind it, just staying in the same position
“Bro, you’re so nervous. What are you, gay?”
“Come on! Man up! It’s so embarrassing if you’re actually-…”
The voice drowns out, muffling unintelligibly. their eyes widen, staring. That’s not it. That’s not- Their stomach suddenly starts to knot and he can hear laughter around him. He frantically looks around, searching for the source of the laughter. He messed up. He fucked up for sure. He hates him. He hates you. He hates him. Why did he act so fucking nervous? It’s just Nor. They open his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Like he was stripped of his voice all together. Say something, say something, say something, say something! There’s nothing he needs to worry about. There’s nothing to worry about. They can feel their eyes filling up with water, no. No no. No no. No no no no no. nonono. Their breath catches in their throat. I can’t… I can’t—just say something. Say something normal. Say something cool. The fog thickens, creeping closer, swallowing the tall grass, swallowing the sky—swallowing everything. The wind doesn’t feel like wind anymore. It presses against him, heavy, suffocating, like it wants to push him down into the earth. He looks back at Nor, his face glitching and distorting to something. Something corrupted. Something out-of-place. Something blurred. He can’t see Nor’s face. It’s all blurry. Distorted.
“What are you, gay?”
That line echoes in his mind, spiralling and replaying over and over and over again. No. No. no. no. no. nonono. No. No. Nononono… No. No-
When he looks back at Nor, his face is gone.
They jolt up from his bed, waking up; their breathing fast and light. He stares at the clock, 4:00am. Right. Just- Just a dream. He tries to regulate his breathing, ignoring how fast his heart is beating. He tugs at his pajamas, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He’s sweating. looking out the window. No… it can’t be real, right? He hates me.
“No, he doesn’t,”
they mutter quickly. Why does it hurt so much? fuck. Whatever. They don’t need him. They shouldn’t let some- some stupid fucking dream control their mood. They stare at the wall, a picture frame hid at the corner of the room. Him and Nor. Smiling with Nor’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Wish he was that charming guy he used to be. It feels oddly nostalgic. Maybe he should go to bed. Or probably not. Whatever. He doesn’t need to right now. Nobody’s forcing him to. They just- they just can’t think straight right now. He turns to one side of the bed, getting up. He catches a glimpse of their body in the mirror and almost gagged for some reason. Fuck. Why were they feeling like this? Why- Why were they… whatever. Maybe he just needed to freshen up a bit. He walks to the bathroom, trying to force himself to steady his hands when he glances at the mirror. Is this how he really looks? They look… weird. Like it wasn’t their own face. Like it didn’t belong to them. Like they were born into the wrong body. Wh- Why does he feel like this? Why does he- why does- why does it feel like they’re trapped in their own body? Like a glitch; something thats not supposed to be there. Something that wasn’t supposed to happen, something that he hated. He hated and he hated. Why were they- Why was he…- whatever. He needs sleep. Reality gets thinner at four am. He turns on the faucet to drown the thoughts out. Yeah. Yeah… just- okay. They take a deep breath as an attempt to calm down.
They force themself to push forward and just brush their teeth and go to bed. It’s fucking four in the morning for demolish’s sake. They take their toothbrush and squeeze toothpaste in it, brushing in a circular motion back and fourth. They then rinse with water and run their toothbrush under the sink. He needs some rest, probably can’t think straight from that dream. They could maybe talk to Soren a while before heading to bed. It’s nice to have someone to talk to late in the night once in a while. Or maybe later. Or tomorrow. Or maybe never. Shit. They shouldn’t talk to hym right now. They aren’t in the right headspace. They should probably think about something else for now to divert his attention from nightmares. It isn’t good for him. Maybe about how their hair has been getting freakishly long, he gets tired of being mistaken as a girl, but they don’t mind it. Do they…? Should they? His maids constantly keep nagging them about cutting it to look proper. To “man up” and stop caring about girly things like hair; that made them shiver. Oh, demolish. Stop thinking about it! They- ugh! HE should go to bed.
When he looks back at the mirror, he throw a blanket atop it, covering his own reflection.