IGNORANTIA (Dark Academia!Wesper AU)

dertien

Four months later.

"Wylan, love," Jesper said, holding my face in hands too steady for the situation. "I know you're scared, but you need to stay with me, alright? Everything's gonna be fine. Everything will be alright."

I wake up in a fit, kicking the blankets off of my body in the fear that they'd drag me back down there. I scream and flail like a child in the night, except my dreams are of different material. Here, I see blood on my hands, and broken bodies. I see devils and shadows and all-consuming drivers of blood. Oh, how the blood soaks through everything. It's drowning me in this dark room, endless and metallic and red.

"Wylan?" A voice calls out. "Wylan, you gotta wake up."

A pair of hands grab me, forcing my arms down. In my dream, the blood has anchored me to the bottom of the cement room. I try to scream, but the blood rushes into my mouth, drowning me in an instant.

I jolt awake, and nearly knock heads with Dorian. He groans and sits on the arm of the sofa near where my feet lay. Just under his eye is the black eye I accidentally gave him last time he tried to wake me up.

"You fight rough," he says, kneading his forehead with long fingers.

"Shoot, I'm sorry." I move closer to inspect his head. "Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you the same thing." He drops his hand and smiles at me sadly. We've played this game for days now, and he knows he'll never win. "Had a bad dream?"

I nod.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I sigh and swing my legs over to the side of the couch. My head starts spinning as I try to get up, reducing me to the mobility of a drunk. Still, I pull up a fight and wobble towards the kitchenette nearby. The fact that Dorian's apartment has a kitchen (albeit a tiny one) in it is still astounding to me. No wonder he's literally working for the devil to keep it.

I grab a glass from the cabinets, and pour myself some water from the pitcher on the table. Dorian takes it as his cue that he's lost our little game again, and moves to the kitchenette with me.

"I'm going to Callaghan's lab tonight," Dorian says conversationally. "We really miss you there, you know. It'd be nice if you could come."

"Just be lucky I leave the house at all," I say, downing the glass in one throw. I drop it back onto the kitchen table with a click.

Dorian shifts uncomfortably, his arms folded across his chest. He looks nice today, although he always does — neat brown hair parted in the middle, mustard yellow vest, peacock-colored tie, and a matching spring coat. He doesn't really need it with his nice the weather has been. It's perfect for the final weeks of our second semester.

"Look, I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't be rude when you're letting me stay here."

"You're fine," he says.

"It should only be until finals."

"That's fine."

"And then I'll move back home." Home, where my father will be disappointed in me for dropping out, and where Alys will fuss about a baby who's sure to be due anytime soon. They'll talk to me constantly for a day or two until they forget about me entirely, then it'll be back to my shadowey nonexistence.

Maybe I'll be able to get a gig playing at a nice restaurant. The orchestras won't take me without a degree, but the melodrama theatres in the East Stave might. I could make a decent wage for myself and live in the rickety townhouse apartments near Little Ravka. It certainly won't be fulfilling in any way possible, but it's honest work and it would keep me busy. Maybe then I can forget about everything here.