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"my missing half—where are you"
HER LAUGH HUNG THROUGH THE AIR LIKE TIME HAD SLOWED. It knocked around his head. Symphonies of whispers echoed loudly in his brain, to the point where it was all he heard for a short while.
His dreams had been nothing but snapshots of her. When they were young, her stupid jokes, and how beautiful she became as they grew. She was nothing short of perfect in his eyes, that was all he needed.
He couldn't remember his own name. Through the struggle, fighting wave after wave of dreams and bad conversations, he found himself stranded on an island of unknowing disbelief that someone that angelic could exist, and that they were calling out to him.
There was a sudden trigger, like a shotgun blast, as if an explosion sounded somewhere nearby. He felt hot, a burning sensation covering his back and arms. Then, a rush of power ran through his veins, quickly pulsing into the ground, ripping it open.
Surprise filled his lungs while the suffocating smell of strawberries and vanilla floated above him. It was pulling him upwards, but with his eyes closed, he was lulled back into a deep slumber, no chance of making it to the strong scent. No chance making it to her. Whatever was preventing him had a strong hold, whispering words of unpleasant times with a grip of fear on his shoulder. If she were to have a chance at making it safely, he would need to do nothing—nothing was quite hard for him to do.
Cool feelings of ice and snow fluttered around his arms. He opened his eyes, in an Arctic wasteland he saw a figure in the distance. Before he could move toward them for help, the world crumbled below their feet, sucking them in, drowning out their yells while he clamored for them once more. They were gone. He was alone, his heart breaking in two at any hope of figuring out who he was or where he was.
Left to his own devices, he racked his brain for any memory, any recollection of the boy he used to be. His own inner monologue repeated the scenes of terror and fright, as well as her beauty and the gentleness of her touch on his skin. The sensation of electricity arching through his body, ending at a point at the small of his back, tugging him to keep searching for anything. That was what let him going—the chance of learning who she was, the key to figuring it all out.
"Don't worry, my love, I'm right here. I'm always here with you."
He was jolted. A shockwave sounded through his mind, he knew that voice, her eyes glistening with happiness. The name—what was the name. He begged and begged for some sign, for something to take pity on his helpless suffering, but they answered in grace. He was eternally grateful.
Ariadne. Aidan.
Ariadne suited her well. Her name was a key to the door of their memories together, before his own name appeared in the dim lighting.
