The Boy with the Two Toned Hair (Bon X Reader)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Well, I suppose that wasn't too long of a wait! I didn't work on my other book in favor of moving along with this one, so it might be a little bit until the next update. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Let me know if a comment and/or vote. Enjoy!

Voices broke the deep silence that I had been left to since those two strange people had left me. I had been left in a dark, seemingly endless void. It was like I was floating on an endless ocean, though it was calm. I simply floated, having no say or control of where I was going. I had no idea where I would end up or who would be waiting for me. I didn't know where I was or who I was or what was going on.

I knew I should be feeling something about this entire situation, fear, worry, apprehension maybe, but surprisingly, I felt nothing. It was like I was numb. I couldn't feel. I couldn't feel anything with my body or my mind. There was nothing to feel. There was nothing tangible, to hold on to, to grasp. It was just me, alone in the never ending darkness.

As I floated along on the dark waves, I couldn't help but wonder where I was and what was going on. I couldn't remember anything. All I remembered was those two odd people leaving me. One had blue hair, the other's bright blue eyes contrasting against his dark skin and hair. They had been saying something, but I couldn't remember. Surely I had responded, but what did I say? What had we been talking about? What brought me here? And why?

Suddenly, there was a muted rumbling. It was soft and deep and familiar, but I couldn't remember where it was familiar from. It was comforting and dare I say soothing. I wanted to get close to whatever that rumbling sound was. I liked it. It reminded me of a light. It reminded me of soft laughter and gentle but strong hands. It reminded me of firm scoldings and soft words, strong hands on my shoulders, directing me. Leading me. Showing me the rights and wrongs. Teaching me. I wanted that rumbling.

With all of my might, I strained, trying to get closer to the muted rumbling. The rumbling continued, sounding sad. It made me sad. I wanted the hurt, the sadness, to stop. Alas, my acts of desperation were fruitless; I couldn't move a muscle or speak a word. Soon, the rumbling was moving away, and it was silent once more. Once more, I was left to my thoughts, to the darkness.

(LINE BREAK)

I didn't know how long I floated in the pitch black waves of the dark ocean until a new sound broke the silence. It was like the soft rumbling from before, but it was silently different. It didn't hold the same feelings. It didn't bring the same memories. This one reminded me of comfort on sleepless nights, raised voices of past arguments. It reminded me of guiding hands, fun times, good memories. It reminded me of endless laughter, endless laughter that would cause my stomach to hurt. It brought memories of smiles, of good times.

A second noise was quick to join the first. This voice put me at peace; I immediately relaxed. I felt safe and protected. This noise reminded me of protection and was the embodiment of safety. It reminded me of strong hands and arms, strong, comforting hugs. It, like the others, reminded me of comfort, of security, of home.

All at once, emotion finally flooded my soul. I wanted to cry out of need for whoever or whatever was making these noises. I knew they were important, and I knew I needed them, but I couldn't reach them. The thought alone made me want to cry, to sob, to scream, but it was nothing like I was feeling in my heart. They were there, just out of reach. It was torture.

Both noises sounded sad, and I wanted nothing more than to comfort them, to hold them close. I wanted to fix it, to make them feel better. Too soon for my liking, the sounds moved away, and before I knew it, they were gone. If I could have broken down crying, I would have.

(LINE BREAK)

When the noises returned, they were accompanied by another feeling, though it wasn't emotional. It was physical. It started with a touch on my hand. I could feel something warm and calloused against my hand. It was familiar and comforting. It was like I had known this touch for years. I wanted so badly to squeeze their hand, something to show them that I was there, anything.