𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈 : 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Darkness. As you twisted and turned, searching in every direction, emptiness swallowed you for miles. This plane felt lonely yet comforting the further you walked through its nothingness. Your heels clacked and reverberated through the space like footsteps on marble. Although the void greeted you with nothing else to offer, the area held an ethereal air that permeated all your senses. There was a warm safety that hummed through this abandoned oblivion.

"Hello?" you called out into the never-ending expanses. Your voice bounced back a few times before the silence returned. "Is anyone here?"

No matter how far you walked, you went no further than where you started. You paused when you realized searching was pointless and allowed the somber air to envelop your entire being.

"Ciao, bella," an unfamiliar accent whispered over your shoulder. "You shouldn't get so comfortable here. Otherwise, you will never want to leave."

You glanced over your back toward the sound, and a perfect smile greeted you. A brunette that seemingly appeared from thin air behind you chuckled. His perfectly-placed freckles dotted his pink cheeks while his hair bounced with each shake of his shoulders. He towered like a fine oak and closed the distance between you. Without warning, he cupped your chin in his icy hands.

"My, my. Aren't you a pretty one? No wonder he finally asked for my help. I have been waiting for you to reach me all night, but you're tough to catch." He dropped one of your cheeks to tap your forehead. "Your mind is like a maze and a fortress wrapped into one. There are parts even you have no knowledge of."

Was this a dream? Usually, you only saw memories from the past, but never anything unfamiliar such as this. You had never met this man in your life and seldom dreamt anymore in the first place, but here he was, touching your skin and speaking to you as if he had known you his entire life. This man, who appeared before you like the most beautiful angel your eyes had the grace of beholding, was entirely new. Yet, something about him felt so familiar. Flecks of gold sparkled in his coffee-colored irises, and his locks appeared as soft as Lamb's Ear and dark as a moonless sky. You desperately tried to place his face, but nothing came to mind the longer you stared at him.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?" you asked softly.

"In a way, just not how two people normally know each other. However, we do have a few mutual friends." He turned your face between his fingers to kiss both of your cheeks. When he pulled away again, he said, "But I must say, it is a treat to speak with you finally! I wish it could have been under different circumstances, but better now than never."

"Different circumstances?"

You felt the frost behind his kisses spreading over your skin. His touch was deathly cold, like fallen snow, for someone whose face radiated warmer than a winter's hearth.

"We can speak on that another time." The tall man released your face and lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs and motioning for you to join him. "I'm more interested in you, Y/n."

"How do you know my nam–"

Pain rippled through your chest, ripping you back into reality.

Martin, for the ninth time, had kicked you in the ribs while you slept. Never before had someone made you regret offering your assistance and kindness without any fault of his own.

With each impact, you struggled to fall asleep, wishing you had any other sleep partner lying beside you. At this point, you would rather lay beside Zeke with his thunderous snoring, the military man that attempted to grope you in the tavern weeks ago, or Floch's vile Grandmother and her freakishly long fingernails. Anyone would be better than Martin.