((Any of them with Al would mess this boy up... 1, 8, or 12 are the ones that seem to come to Al's mind a lot... but 9 I KNOW would mess with Sochi's world a bit.. and in light of things might have had some crossed wires.. so whatever you feel like writing.. because I know the end result is going to murder my feels regardless. It's like choosing how I want to be slayed!))
Nightmares Rise: 12. ____ at My Muse’s furneral, My Muse witnessing how they act from the perspective of a ghost.
It had been a long day. Sochi was tired, and his body was sore all over. The show was going great, smoothly and without any hiccups along the path, but it was getting close to closing night, and that often made certain anxieties rise. His mood had been iffy all day and, aside from the 5 hours he spent at the theater trying to play his part well, he didn’t feel much like doing anything at all.
Now that he was home, all he really wanted to do was curl up and fall asleep. Barely taking the time to remove his jeans, he flopped down onto bed on his stomach, heaving a heavy sigh.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything, Kitten?” The warm, soothing voice came from above him, a soft and gentle touch weaving through the hair on his head, and prompting out the first relaxed groan he’d been able to manage all day.
“Maybe some ice water? Thank you, Aleis. But…really…I just want to sleep…” His voice slowed, barely audible as in no time at all he drifted to sleep.
Much like many of his other dreams began, Sochi was floating above the clouds in the sky. It was calm, peaceful, and he couldn’t help but smile at the way the suns rays bounced across the clouds. Still, something felt a little bit different. There was a heaviness in the air, a heaviness to his movements, and he could hear it in the air as well.
A funeral dirge drifted up from the ground below and, turning around, he fluttered down past the lowest edge of the clouds and towards the sound of the mournful music.
The simple melody gave Sochi an uneasy feeling, and as his feet hovered just above the firm ground, he swallowed as he saw his name on a sign posted outside alongside the words Memorial Service. Hesitantly, Sochi walked inside the little chapel, seeing the multiple tearful faces of his friends and family, people who he knew and loved. Clasping his hand to his chest, he couldn’t feel anything, there was nothing beating underneath.
Moving up the aisle, Sochi wanted to touch the people who were there, he wanted to reach out to them with a smile and a chuckle on his lips, call them silly and show them that he was fine, but any time he reached out his fingers floated right on through.
He was a ghost. He was a ghost to everyone.
Aleis.
Turning wildly around in circles, he knew that he absolutely had to see his Aleis, his love. He knew that until he saw that face he wouldn’t be able to believe it. Sochi stopped when his eyes saw the fair-blond hair.
Slowly, carefully, he walked to the front row. His eyes lit on the stoic face of Pita as he held his Mata who’s face was burried in her husbands shoulder. Her brown hand was clasped in the pale white hand of the man Sochi was looking for. Sochi wanted to reach out and comfort his parents, but the red knuckles from how tightly Aleis was gripping his Mata’s hand told him all he needed to know as he stood in front of his man.
The soft, gentle tears falling from his love’s violet eyes were ice cold as he lifted the back of his hand to try and touch Aleis’s cheek. It was cold. Ice cold as his eyes. Sochi didn’t know whether or not it was because his hands were the temperature of death or whether, even though still alive, Aleis seemed to sway that way himself. Looking into the face of the man he loved, Sochi couldn’t help but choke back a silent sob at the frozen eyes that stared somewhere away from reality, eyes that were regressing back to how they were when they first met--lonely, cold, lifeless.
“No…Aleis, no don’t,” Despite his lack of ability to touch or even plant his feet firmly on the ground, Sochi reached translucent hands forward to brush the white blond hair, fingers doing nothing to the strands except go right through them. Cold, dead tears, fell from his own cheeks, head leaning forward to light dozens of kisses on Aleis’s face, kisses that he couldn’t connect no matter how hard he tried, “Don’t go away too, Aleis…you have to stay…you can’t go back there…please, please don’t. Your heart is so full of love, you have to keep loving, you have to. I’m sorry…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you forever…but please, please don’t lose yourself…don’t lose my Aleis…”
“Aleis!” Sochi woke, jetting his body backwards and nearly falling backwards off of the bed with the scream of his love’s name. Seeing him before him, next to him on the bed with a book, he caught himself and lunged forward with open arms, not caring that his face was soaked or that his iron grip might be suffocating the other, “I’m not going anywhere! Never, never, never! Never!”