quixotic. ↣ d.h.

xii: home

"would you like anything?" dan asked, moving towards the counter.

"um." zoe bit her lip. she could use some caffeine, but she didn't want dan to feel obligated to pay. but if she insisted on paying herself, would dan get upset?

"zoe?"

"yeah," she said finally. "a coffee would be great, thanks." she slipped a few bills out of her pocket and handed them to dan. he took them without question.

the window next to the booth she'd chosen was foggy, wet with condensation. zoe trailed her finger through it, writing in messy cursive.

"what's that?"

dan sat down across from her and slid a steaming mug in her direction. zoe smiled at him gratefully and wrapped her cold fingers around the cup.

"just a quote," she answered simply, glancing at the window. though, to her, there was nothing simple about quotes.

"when the dreamer dies, what happens to the dream?" dan read. he looked at her with wondering eyes. "so?"

zoe knit her eyebrows. "so what?"

"so," dan leaned forward, resting his arms on the table in front of him. "what happens to the dream?"

"it's just a quote," zoe tried to explain. "it's from this book, the virgin suicides... just something i've been thinking about lately." she lifted the mug to her face and took a long drink. it was still too hot and burned her mouth.

"that's not what i asked," dan said, mirth glinting in his brown eyes. "i want to know what you think happens to the dream."

zoe wasn't quite sure. the reason these words had been weighing so heavily on her mind was because she couldn't decipher them. what was the author trying to say?

"i think," she began uncertainly, "it dies with them."

dan scrunched his nose at her. "really?"

"well, how can it not? the dream is only alive because of the dreamer, existing only within them. when the dreamer dies, the dream dies as well."

dan was shaking his head. "no, no, you've got it all wrong."

zoe raised her eyebrows, urging him to continue.

"once something is put into existence, it never truly fades away. sure, the thing itself may fade, but the impact it had - on the planet, on other people, on the whole universe - can not be reversed. it will endure forever."

zoe hadn't been expecting something like that from dan. as horribly self-absorbed as it was, she sometimes felt as if she were the only one who felt things this deeply, who contemplated and pondered and dared to imagine. of course, she knew that wasn't really true, but all of the people in this town seemed like dead fish following a stream, none of them brave enough to venture out into the rest of the ocean in search of something more. surrounded on all sides by mindless mundanity, it was easy to forget that she was not alone in the way she thought. there were others like her.

she was not the only dreamer.

zoe smiled wide at him.

"what?"

"nothing, just... that was really beautiful."

like you, dan thought, but he didn't say it. he didn't say anything. he smiled back at her and took a drink of his hot chocolate.

with the warmth thawing their numbed skin and the rich smell of fresh coffee beans filling their noses, they fell into a drowsy quiet. the heavy snow was sticking to the ground, piling onto the window sill beside them.

zoe was looking out at the world with a certain sadness in her eyes, one that made dan reluctant to ask her if she was okay.

despite his silence, dan's mind was bubbling with curiosity. he wanted to know more about her, about why she seemed so despondent sometimes and why she needed an escape.

but he knew that if he ambushed her, if he rushed things, she may fold herself back up and never open again. her simply approaching him was progress enough for the day.

so instead of voicing his prying questions, he settled for a tiny - yet still important - one.

"what's your favorite color?"

she looked at him as if he were mad. he probably was.

"purple," she answered. "but a light one, like-"

"lilac?" dan interjected.

"yeah. lilac."

"any particular reason why?" dan had learned that there was always a reason why.

"it's the first color i remember seeing." zoe toyed with a piece of paper that had been laying on the table. she didn't meet dan's eyes. "my room was that color when i was younger. when things were... easier."

dan nodded. he understood the nostalgia that accompanied thoughts of simpler times. sometimes it felt like everything was moving too fast. and dan couldn't keep up.

so with zoe's words echoing in his mind and the icy kiss of snowflakes on his lips, dan walked her home. he waited until she had closed the door behind her to turn away and walk back to his house that was not a home.

he wondered if he had imagined it, or had she really hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath and bracing herself before crossing the threshold of her house?

had he imagined it... because that's what he did at his own house?

maybe they were both just as ostracized from their "homes" as the other. 

author's note: this is my favorite story i have going right now omg. please please vote/comment/share and check out my other projects, especially the festive phan au "christmas cookies." which will be posted later this week :))

and just... don't forget to always keep fighting.