Nightdreamer, My Nightdreamer

1: The Summons

Notes

Completed 2021-01-23. Originally published 2021-01-23. No content warnings applicable. The attached media is what the motel bathroom looks like. Word count: 3383.

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     Rose banged on the bathroom door for the umpteenth time in ten minutes. "Ellie!" she groaned. "What're you even doing in there?"

     "Hiding from you!" I snapped. "I heard knocking at the door and I knew it could only be you, back to bother me about that blind date you set up for me."

     I heard Rose sigh and slide down the other side of the door. I arched an eyebrow at myself in the mirror since I couldn't do it to her. I've never understood why she got so invested in my love life. Why was it that, whenever I stood up a date, she acted like she was the one getting snubbed? Sometimes I couldn't help but wonder if she would feel worse or better if I'd just go on the date and end up getting murdered by a serial killer who targeted Hispanic brunettes with glasses...

     Something hit the door, what I could only assume was the back of Rose's head. "Would you believe me if I said I'm not here about that?" she asked.

     I snorted. "No."

     "Seriously!" she said. "If you would just open up the door, you'd see I'm in full angel regalia. I'm here strictly on business."

     I frowned at my reflection as I mulled it over. "Well," I mused after a moment, "it is kind of weird that you'd get to visit me twice in one week."

     "Exactly—!"

     "But I'll need to see some concrete proof," I concluded. "I wouldn't put it past you, giving up your two Earth visits for the next few months to make sure I go on this one date."

     Rose gasped, the sound sharp with indignation. "That is completely— That is—" She huffed. "That is very fair."

     "Thank you," I muttered, mostly to myself, before perching on the rim of the bathtub. From there, I could see most of myself in the mirror, not just a portion of my face, but I averted my gaze immediately after meeting my own eyes. There was something...painful...about looking at myself so directly. It was partly the long and unkempt hair that my hairband could barely keep out of my eyes, partly the dry skin and unhealthy complexion, and partly the cheap and thrown-together look of my attire. What really got me, however, was the hopelessly lost glint in my eyes—restless, untameable, and doomed. But I guess that's what you get when you fail nightdreamer training and wind up living from motel to motel.

     I narrowed my eyes. What the heck was I going on about? This was the life I had chosen for myself. This was the life I wanted. What was I doing, moping about and being pitiful?

     Mustering up the vestiges of glee I had leftover from treating myself to ice cream this afternoon, I plastered on a smile and yanked open the door. "Fine," I grit out, "I'll go on this marvellous date of y—"

     I blinked, going slack-jawed as I took in Rose's appearance on the motel floor. She really was decked out like an angel. I don't think I had ever seen her in her angel uniform, not since her halo ceremony a few years back and definitely not this close up. She wore the toga every nightdreamer possessed, a perfect red and secured at her right shoulder with a golden buckle. She also had a golden chain around her neck, the attached protective pendant obscured by the toga. I winced a little at the sight of it, my right hand instinctively reaching up and brushing against my own, bare neck. Growing up, expecting to become an angel one day, I had looked forward most to receiving my pendant. I had daydreamed about it more than I even did about receiving my halo.