Cursed
Part 2 | Part 4
The Cursed Sight
TW: (as always the TWs contain spoilers) not many tws for this part! We've got lots of pining (Dreams literally the king of this 😂), thoughts about near death experiences and thinking you're crazy, all in all just some good old fashioned Dream shenanigans! Enjoy! ❤
It had been a long time since the Dream Lord found himself so lost in thought. Even when faced with hunting down his tools, restoring his realm, dealing with his rogue nightmares, and confronting The Vortex, Morpheus hadn’t felt as powerless over his own mind as he did now. At least when dealing with all that, it had made sense. This, however, did not.
He was as old as the collective unconsciousness, a monarch of his own realm with power far beyond mortal comprehension, and yet there he was… Distracted. Distracted by a human. It was preposterous, absurd, and something he'd not at all expected.
Even after he'd saved the girl's life, he'd argued with himself - and his sister, of course - that he'd done it for the cat. That was not out of the realm of belief; his fondness for the feline creatures was well known among his siblings and the other host of immortal beings. The cat, he'd argued, deserved a life of dignity, and he'd simply wanted to ensure that the mortal was able to give the creature such.
That had been a month ago, and still his raven could be seen outside the mortal’s apartment… And her place of work across the street… And her favorite restaurants, coffee shops, at the homes of her other mortal acquaintances. Matthew had voiced his opinions at length each time he returned to his master's side to provide him with an update on the “cat”. The raven's gossip had spread until the whole of The Dreaming spoke of the mortal girl their creator was definitely not watching.
So, there he was, Dream of The Endless, sitting stiffly upon his throne, head tilted back, starlit eyes watching the cosmos of shifting color above him, yet unable to think of anything but her face. Through the raven's eyes, she looked so different than how he remembered her. When she'd stood tucked within his shielding embrace, she'd looked so small… So fragile. Perhaps that had simply been because of her close encounter with the front side of a car, he'd reasoned. Either way, she seemed so much more alive when he looked upon her through Matthew's eyes. It was… Frustrating and relieving, and all of it just confused the immortal being more.
*
You gently fluffed the soft petals of the flower in front of you, urging it open just a touch more before meticulously setting it into place within the arrangement in front of you. It was simple, a variety of purple and red flowers dappled with the calming white of baby’s breath. You’d made similar bouquets before for several occasions, but you still found yourself enjoying the mix of colors.
The life of a florist was hardly complicated, and you enjoyed it that way. You enjoyed the simplicity of your job and of your life in general. It was predictable and safe and yet… something in you ached for something more. What? You had no idea, or rather, you didn’t want to admit you knew exactly what that part of you longed for.
Somewhere deep in your mind, the part you’d been trying not to think about, the colors pulled your thoughts to that night a month ago. The cat - who had grown only slightly less afraid and prone to scratching you - had run into the road, and you, foolish, stupid, idiotic you, had run in after it.
A month ago, you'd almost died, and yet all you could seem to care about was that smell… That stranger.
Lavender and poppies.
It wasn’t a particularly rare pairing, though it was one you'd rarely encountered before, but somehow that only made you feel worse. It was a known pairing. So, one would assume it’d be easy to find that smell again… to find some tangible proof of your stranger. Over the weeks that followed, you'd searched stores and online shops trying to find the cologne or perfume that he’d certainly had to douse himself in for it to stick to you so primally. Nothing came of it, of course, only lending more power to the thought that had plagued you since.
You made it all up, you'd told yourself almost immediately after it happened. You did something moronic, and to cope with your own life-threatening stupidity, you conjured up some tall, handsome stranger to explain away how you didn't die. It was the only thing that made any sense at all.
No one could be that fast. No one could be that tall and handsome and… You set your palms flat against the counter and shook your head. Lavender and poppies… It simply wasn't real, and you simply had to accept that, no matter how difficult.
*
This is foolish, Dream thought to himself for the third time since his fine leather boots had touched the sidewalk of the mortal realm. Matthew had said very little on their walk through the streets, hovering close by with a glint in his eyes that made Dream feel even more foolish. “Stop that.”
“Flying?” Matthew replied. “That’d be a serious nosedive.”
“Staring,” he’d practically growled back.
“I’m not staring.”
“I can feel your attitude from here.” He shook his head and stood up just a hair straighter. “As I told you, we’re just here for a moment.”
The bird laughed. “Riiight. Just coming to stretch our legs as it were.”
“Yes,” Dream agreed, quickly offering up the excuse he’d practiced last night. “I find it helpful to walk among humans every so often, especially when crafting new nightmares proves difficult.”
“Has it?”
The offense he felt was instant, and Dream couldn’t help but glare up at the bird. “No.”
Mathew practically beamed back. “Then why do you need the walk?”
“I do not need anything. I simply…” Dream sighed. Of course, he’d make this insufferable. “I am your sovereign, I may walk if I wish to walk.”
The raven reveled in his victory with a loud caw. “As you say, Your Majesty.”
Why did I even let him come? Dream wondered, trying not to make it obvious that he’d purposefully changed course and began walking towards the coffee shop where he’d last seen the mortal sitting in through his raven’s eyes. It was a hopeless endeavor, he knew, but even that, it seemed, couldn’t deter him from continuing his foolish mission.
A sickly aroma wafted from the building that made him wince. Coffee beans, caffeine, and a mixture of the many bodies that stood within the small shop. It was horrible. Overwhelming and all for not.
She wasn’t there, in the spot she’d been sitting in that morning. Dream felt his face fall as he gazed through the window, eyes searching the crowd of people, hoping he’d simply missed her. Matthew hopped at his feet and cleared his throat. “She’s not here.”
“What?” Dream looked down at the bird. “I am not-”
“Cut the bullshit, boss,” he replied quickly. “It’s so beyond obvious it’s getting painful.”
Dream turned his head away, glaring back in at the window, at the shop full of people that weren’t the person he’d not been looking for. Through clenched teeth, he eventually asked, “Where is she?”
Matthew’s chest puffed up. “Who? I thought we weren’t looking for anyone.”
“Matthew.”
“Alright, fine.” The bird took to the sky once more. “She’ll already be at work by now. Follow me.”
For a moment, he considered not listening. He’d considered turning around and summoning his sand to whisk him away from the mortal realm and back home, where he felt safe, where everything was familiar and known. But, in the end, he could not ignore the pull within him - the longing.
And so, Dream followed his raven around the corner and down the busy sidewalks for another block or two before Matthew landed on a nearby lamppost. His small beak gestured to the familiar flower shop tucked away between a bakery and some sort of laundry mat. It was just as he’d seen it through Matthew’s eyes over the past month, small and simple, bursting with color and the floral scent that had clung to her that night.
There, standing at a counter with flowers scattered about in a methodical madness he understood all too well, she stood. Her head was down, hair hanging messily around her soft face as she diligently worked on cutting and placing the flowers properly. For a moment, foolish as it was, he felt as though his breath was stolen from him. She was just as he remembered. Simple and sweet, not unlike the flowers she arranged. Not asking for attention, not wishing to stand out, simply doing so because she was beautiful just as she was.
He remained across the street, looking breathlessly in through the front window. His whole body swayed, a desire to walk towards her nearly making his feet move on their own. Dream remained steadfast, forcing himself to be content with this.
Distance. Stolen glances. Never being known by her. That was all he could truly offer, and yet that knowledge did not stop him from wishing. Even for something as simple as a glance, Dream of the Endless would give practically anything.
Her head lifted, and her soft, human eyes met his. A sigh fell from his lips, one of a wish come true. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight, the color quickly becoming his favorite.
Even from afar, he could see the awe that struck her as her hands fumbled the flower in front of her, sending it falling to the ground. She bent down to retrieve it just as his sand fell through his fingers.
*
You’d been so consumed by the intricate arrangement in front of you that’d you’d unknowingly skipped lunch. Instead, sustaining, or pretending to, yourself with every delicate petal molding beneath your fingers and every quick snip to trim too-long stems. You’d let the arrangement consume all else. It was really the only way to keep your mind from wandering to places that just made you feel crazier.
Admiring the arrangement of flowers, the balance of pinks and whites, and baby blues, you couldn’t help but smile. The wedding will be gorgeous, you thought, as you often did when working on wedding arrangements. This would usually be where you’d allow yourself to imagine what your floral choices would be at your own, very pretend, wedding. Today, however, it was the moment you’d once again let your thoughts slip back to the stranger.
Tall and handsome with eyes that sparkled like starlight. He would make a lovely groom, you thought. All it took was one picture of you standing beside him again, dressed in a pretty dress, for you to shake your head and scold yourself, “Stupid.”
You didn’t even know him. He could be married or gay or some horrible monster of a human being. Again, you shook your head and busied your hands. He isn’t even real.
A loud caw echoed through the window, and your head turned, eyes casting up to gaze lovingly at the raven you’d been seeing practically everywhere. You smiled and tried to think back to whether you’d packed his favorite treats in your bag that morning before leaving. Then your gaze fell to the sidewalk, to the figure clad in black standing there… to the eyes of shining starlight that had been haunting your every thought.
Your fingers twitched, sending the delicate peony falling to the floor. In a moment of confused disbelief, and perhaps panic, you quickly tore your gaze away and bent to retrieve it. When you stood again, placing the flower back on the work table, and turned your head back to the window, he was gone. You’d stumbled around the counter and out the front door, desperately glancing left and right in search of that midnight black.
Nothing. You almost laughed at yourself, at the way your eyes slightly burned and began filling with tears. Of course, it was nothing.
Nothing save the faintest hint of lavender and poppies.
