Dreams only go so far.
That night, Roy drifted without much thought, just a blur of tired muscles and the faint ache in his knuckles. He could have just healed himself, but that would have just ruined the sense of accomplishment of working out in a while.
When he opened his eyes. He was home. Or at least what looked like home.
Everything was… right. People sat around a long table, plates steaming with food, voices humming like distant radio chatter. Everyone seemed to be happy. The air was warm and soft, like being tucked into bed by your parent.
But their faces… They had nothing.
Smooth, pale blurs where eyes and mouth should be. Roy somehow knew each of them. Their names sat on the tip of his tongue, yet if he tried to speak, they'd dissolve into static in his mind.
It was one of those hazy dreams where you know you're there, you know these people matter to you but understanding why… It feels like it was like water slipping through his fingers.
Roy stood up slowly, his chair scraping the floor. "I'm going to step out for some air," he muttered to the person on his right.
The faceless head turned towards him. "You okay?"
"Yuh, yuh." He waved lazily as he got up and started heading towards the door.
The moment the cool night hit him, it was like a knot deep in his chest loosened. 'Relieved' was too small of a word to describe it; this was a release, like an iron chain being lifted off his lungs.
That first breath of fresh air was clearing his mind.
It killed it.
He was holding an empty can of beer in his hands that he didn't even remember holding. He gave it a quick look and tossed it into a nearby bin without thinking, hearing the dull clink as it hit the bottom.
Then, he started walking.
A little stumble at first, the kind you get when your legs aren't sure if they're in a dream or not. He corrected himself slowly, each step settling into a rhythm of its own. The streets were quiet, and every breath he released became a small white fog that fell behind him.
He had a jumper on that he didn't remember wearing before, but it still didn't help him escape the cold air.
And then, he saw it.
To his left.
A woman.
Her features were crystal clear yet blurry. It was painfully clear compared to the blurred nothingness of everyone that was inside. Her eyes were deep enough to drown in yet so indistinct. Her presence was sharp but hazy.
She didn't glow; she radiated.
The air around her seemed heavier and warmer, like she was carrying something whole, something complete, and that completeness bled into him without permission.
She was something Roy was not.
He didn't feel jealous or uncomfortable. Not even a little.
She didn't speak. Neither did he. They just… Walked together. Step by step, side by side, their shadows stretching out in front of them under the amber streetlights.
Roy doesn't remember why she was walking with him or how she got into his rhythm.
The silence wasn't at all awkward.
Every so often, Roy caught himself glancing at her from the corner of his eye, and each time he did, it felt like she was looking at him. Not in the literal sense, but in the way someone sees you entirely without needing to meet your gaze.
She knew Roy.
Roy didn't know her.
They turned a corner together. The buildings around them grew ever so taller, brick and concrete rising into the dim sky. Windows glowed faintly like half-remembered memories.
Roy's hands tightened slightly. He didn't know why. Something about this place felt familiar.
The woman slowed, just for a moment, and when she did, Roy felt an invisible thread between them tighten. He wasn't sure if she was leading him or he was leading her somewhere.
Or if they were just walking toward the same inevitable point.
And then…
Somewhere far off, a sound. A faint crack like glass splitting.
The pavement under them shimmered for a fraction of a second, not enough to feel wrong, but enough for Roy's instincts to twitch. He turned his head, about to say something to the woman. And…
She was gone.
He stood there, in the middle of the empty street, breathing in the cold air that was suffocating. His heartbeat slowly rose. The amber light above flickered once, then steadied. His footsteps echoed as if the space around him had stretched out.
His breath stuttering. No other sound. No wind. No hum of the streetlight.
Roy looked down at his hands. Empty. No beer bottle. No warmth from the woman's presence. Just the slow and increasing thump of his heartbeat, a steady reminder that this was either still a dream… Or something else entirely.
His eyes scanned the shadows at the dark end of the street. Something moved.
Or maybe nothing did.
Either way, the pull of his chest, the one that had tightened earlier, started to coil again.