Sometimes, people can come into others' dreams. For most, they are placed in the scene by the dreamer. But for some, they can come on their own.
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// talks of alcohol (it is just one word)
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"Wake up!" Large, warm hands were felt gripping Sapnap's shoulders.
Sapnap jumped in his seat and quickly scanned the room - there was only a rusty, old television (covered in black and white dots); a beige, ripped sofa on which he accidentally slept; and a pair of widened, piercing eyes meeting his.
"It's 2 AM!", the voice spoke. The enthusiastic, loud tone that always aches his mind sounded familiar: it was Dream. "How long have you been sleeping here?"
"That doesn't matter, you sound like you haven't slept," He turned his head to scan the man behind him before resting it on the hand gripping the sofa despite the shape of said hand being uncomfortable to be used as a pillow. "You even-" Sapnap yawned loudly before speaking again, the other nearly breaking into laughter. "You even look like you haven't slept. Why are you so energetic at this time? What have you been doing?"
"I have just been on my phone, surfing the internet. What else would you think I would be doing?"
Clubbing. Drinking. Running from the police. Something worse, maybe. "Oh, I don't know... sleeping?"
"Sleep, when we lose track of time just by closing our eyes. No thanks."
He rolled his eyes at the blonde before standing up, the sofa creaking with every movement he made: his back straightening, his hands making dents on the cushions, his body getting up from the sofa. "Fine, but if anyone comments on how you look or behave just because of sleep deprivation, the blame is entirely on you."
Dream's only response was a soft hum, which his roommate's ears didn't catch.
Sapnap dragged himself up the stairs, which one could assume has not been cleaned in weeks (which it was not). He twisted the doorknob and entered his bedroom, letting the soft moonlight shine through the windows and painting him in the sparkling, silver colour which he loves dearly. He then collapsed on his bed with a loud thud, not caring about resting his sore head on the pillows or covering his frail body with the blanket spilt on the floor, and leaving to slumber almost immediately.
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With the close of his eyes, the endless, anti-gravity, black void surrounding him changed to soft, lush, lavender grass and skyscraping, steep, amethyst hills: all of which greeted him on arrival, all of which were covered in glistening dewdrops, all of which felt so real that he thought he just travelled to another planet, another galaxy, another universe.
His feet trod across the meadow, with only a dim sun to light the field. There were no other signs of plant life until he met eyes with a bush, its leaves sticking out like blunt thorns, completely covering the branches within and creating a shadow pasted on the grass which contained no speckles of sunlight. Unlike the others, the bush was dark green and was rustling. It was not the doings of the wind, in fact, there was no wind; it was rustling on its own.
Sapnap stopped in his tracks and stared at the bush, its leaves slowly falling with every shake. From there emerged a young boy with messy, brunette hair. His oversized jacket was covered in violet branches, his arms filled with what appeared to be mulberries. After his eyelids cracked open, he caught Sapnap's gaze.
The boy immediately spun around and dashed away.
"Wait! Come back!" Sapnap yelled. He chased after the boy, but the boy was far too fast for him that by the time Sapnap stopped for a breather, he was nothing but a yellow dot surrounded by the magenta sky. "Wait..." He was breathing too fast to be able to force a word between the gasps and puffs of air entering and leaving his lungs.
Just forget him, a voice in his head said. You aren't going to meet him again, so it's best if you just forget him.
But the boy never left his mind; instead, his memory lingered in his thoughts, and the grassland felt empty as the eerie silence was never broken. No wind came, no words were spoken. The only thing Sapnap did was stare into the distance, and hope the boy would show up again, but unfortunately, there was no sign he was ever coming back.
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"Was the trip amazing?" a man asked, in a pitch which has been interpreted by many to be "too calm to not be serious".
The brunette immediately sat up, making his head uncontrollably spin, and looked at the man, who was sitting comfortably with one leg over the other, on a wooden chair dressed in white. "You have got to be joking when you asked that, George."
"Oh come on, it couldn't be that bad, right?"
The boy rubbed his eyes, clearing his vision. "I entered a stranger's dream. He was also there, supposed to be enjoying the scenery, but I took an uninvited visit into his fantasy."
"So you didn't enter Tommy's dream?"
His head slightly shook.
"What did this person look like?"
He began recollecting his thoughts, but most of his memories of the scene were scattered and blurred into a hazy mess left to decay on the floor of his consciousness. "He was blue... like a ghost. Not completely blinding blue; his hair, his eyes, and parts of his clothes were covered in a slightly darker shade."
"Anything else?"
The boy sighed, which was enough for George to interpret what that meant. He couldn't remember his height, his face, his voice, or the way he stared at him in silence while he was rummaging the bush and cradling berries in his arms. "This so-called "dreamwalking" technique of yours is making me invade other people's privacy."
"Who knows? Maybe one day you would see that boy again."
"No way am I going to that boy again!" He loathed meeting new people; it took him and George 4 years to get to where they are now, and even then he could never tell him anything personal. George was the first person to make the move in their friendship, attempting to start a conversation with him, but it would never last longer than 3 minutes.
And now, the boy was supposed to make the first move. To a total stranger. In a scenario where there will be no one but the two.
"It wouldn't be that bad!" George reassured him.
The boy rolled his eyes before grabbing the blanket and throwing it over his body, even though he looked as if a bucket filled with warm water was dumped on him. The man on the snow-white chair sat there, observing the blanketed and moonlight-covered mess resting on the bed for several minutes before he made his way out of the room with a sigh.
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Quick notice that the dreamwalking in this story is not related to dreamwalking in real life. If you want to dreamwalk, I suggest you search how to. Please do not use the technique I will write about in the fic, thank you!
This also includes dreams; although I do take my own experiences from dreaming, this is not entirely related to real life.
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Promises are Forever
Fanfiction"Look!" Sapnap points toward a house, its walls were refined, its windows were unsullied. "My- sorry, our house looked even better than when we first found it." The blonde man behind him couldn't hear his friend speaking as he was busy carrying thei...
