Age fourteen, sweet/lucid dream.
The first time I saw Lale's face. In a dream. At last.
This dream's theme was blue.
I was rushing through this old, breaking, musty house. Everything was drowned in blue, blue and black, and I felt distantly that I was in danger, though I wasn't sure.
Voices guided me;I couldn't see them through the blue and black. Madeleine's hand held me as I ran through the dirty carpeted halls, clinging to the banister so I didn't fall downstairs into the darkness. She kept mumbling "You have to go, have to go. Get lost in the crowd. Get lost there, he'll find you."
I touched Skye on her bare shoulder, and she glanced at me. Her eyes were cyan, they glowed in the navy of the musty house. Madeleine was ahead, her hair black with my dream. They were ushering me forward, guarding my back, but I felt cold, like they were not there. I heard myself weeping but felt no tears.
As I stumbled into a room, I realized it led down to a mosh pit, filled with blue lights and screaming people made of darkness. Music blasted but I only heard the rhythm, the bass. People with pure black skin brushed against me. Some grabbed me, but I kept stumbling, looking up to see that we were in an open concert garden. There were stage lights, and speakers, but I could only make them out faintly in the dark.
The moon shone silver-blue. The sky was a deep, impenetrable navy, and the stars were pinpoints of white scattered around the Moon's glaring face. I didn't really think about how I was moving, only that I was being followed, and that Skye and Madeleine had left me.
I felt frightened, lost, powerless.
Quietly I cried for help, without speaking. I leapt over the crowds, trying to climb back into the house; they were at the stage, they were coming to me. They grabbed my legs, my arms. I felt burning fire as I tore away from the shadows.
Then, Lale was there. I knew it was him, right away, even though I had never seen his face prior to this dream. Before this dream, I couldn't draw him. I couldn't understand him. And then he was standing there, his black coat reflecting the navy of the sky, walking calmly over destruction of the crowd. He brought the moonlight with him, illuminating the masses of shadows. Each of the shadows hissed, then turned into a pile of nothing, dust at his feet. The silence of the stage, then, was deafening.
He caught me when I ran into him, spun me around. I shuddered, looking into his face--it was so white, broad forehead and cheeks and clear, red eyes. His black hair was slicked back, but some was falling on the left side of his face, and it gave his mouth a deep, ominous shadow. His hands--he wore the gloves I imagined him with--and his touch was hot.
Behind him, I saw Colleen. Her eyes were silver-blue, like the moon, and then the moon was gone. I understood. She was the moon; she guided him to me, but I knew he wasn't really mine. She wore white and her skin was white, and she looked at me with a solemn glance.
He looked me in the eye, and said "I'm here. I'm here." I looked back into his, crimson in all of that burning blue. His brows were drawn. He glared at me, not with hate, but with accusation. I looked behind him, at Colleen's sadness.
Then, we switched places. I was behind them, where Colleen had been standing, seeing Lale's long, black hair mingle with hers. She looked over his shoulder at me with smiling eyes, and I felt at peace. She curled into his arms, and he carried her.
Then I woke up.
