I dreamed about things I hadn't dreamed about in a while, like my string of exes that I said I didn't care about. They had been nothing, nothing at all. A bit of fun, at least, that's what I told myself.
But they hadn't been nothing, at least, not at first.
They had all been something, until they weren't.
The dreams started with Abby, because maybe that's where this whole thing started. The emptiness. Abby was a pretty girl with a cute gap between her front teeth and big blue eyes. We were only nine, but back then we thought we were grown ups. We were boyfriend and girlfriend, and we kissed once or twice, and that meant that we were going to be together forever, right? We had carved our names in a tree in her backyard, but two weeks later it had been cut down. Abby broke up with me when she moved house, and that's when I realised that, even if you loved them, people would leave.
That was alright, though. When I turned ten, I realised that nine was still young. Ten, double digits, I was a grown boy now, and had a grown up girlfriend. Lauren was 11, and her younger brother was in my year. I met her when I went to his house for a birthday party. We were both bored, and had snuck off with a plate of chips and fairy bread and became boyfriend and girlfriend. We lasted longer than I did with Abby, but then Lauren changed. She turned 12, and said I was too childish to hang out with now. I was turning 11 in a week, though, and I cried and cried and begged her not break up with me.
She did, anyway. She didn't like how I cried.
But then I turned 13, and I realised that when I was with Abby and Lauren, I was still a kid. We were kids, it didn't mean anything.
Then, I met Milo. This was the best part of the dream, the only part that didn't fall to shit at my feet. In my dreams, Milo was always smiling. He fed me his lunch, let me lie my head on his lap while he read and I napped, and in my dreams he held my hand and everything would feel okay.
But the dream would always morph into something else. I would be lying on his lap, looking up at his tranquil face, and would close my eyes for one second. Just one second, and when I opened them up again, he was gone and I was looking up at Stella instead.
Stella was pretty, and she was perfect, at first. Her face was a mask with a pretty painted smile, and her laugh was like bells that covered up the lies. I thought that Stella and I were good, that she was only smiling at me, and that she was only kissing me. I gave my virginity to her, because for the first time in a long time, I really thought we would last. In my dreams, I would get up from her lap, and she would smile at me before getting up. I would move to follow her, but the roots of the tree we were sitting under would grow over my arms and legs, binding me in place.
I'd cry and scream as I tore at the branches that would turn into chains as Stella walked away. Far, far away, leaving me behind. I would see her walk to someone, someone with dark hair and dark eyes, and I would scream. The tree would then swallow me up whole, leaves clogging up my lungs and weeds growing in my stomach.
But then I would fall. Fall and fall, the leaves and weeds breaking away, until I was floating in a pool of water suspended in nothing. Alex would wade up to me, pretty Alex, who was the person who made me think that boys were pretty, too. Alex, who was too pretty, and that had made me angry. Something would grab my foot in the water, dragging me underneath. Alex would follow me down, but he wouldn't drown like me. No, he would swim with other people, love other people who also thought he was pretty, and I would scream. The water would turn red with my rage, rage that didn't feel like me at all.
Alex would swim over to me with the hands of other people all over him, and smile that too-pretty smile that I hated.
"Crazy, clingy, crazy, clingy," Alex would chant, making me shake my head, the water flooding down my throat.
I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy!
And then, silence.
In my dreams, it was always quiet after Alex. I would just float, faces of people I knew but also didn't floating around me. I think I had slept with most of them, probably all of them. I think a few of them liked me, and I might have liked them, but I was sure they would all leave me in the end. Why would I let them get close enough to hurt me. So I screamed at them to leave me alone, and they did.
And then it was quiet all over again, because usually I would wake up.
Would I wake up this time?
A door appeared in front of me, made of dark brown wood with a glistening gold handle. I hadn't seen this door before, not like the other parts of the dream. Was this not a dream? I felt dazed, and I couldn't quite tell. I could hear a voice behind the door, deep and rich, warm with the hint of an accent. The voice made me smile, and I didn't hesitate to open the door.
Milo stood there, beautiful and perfect, and my heart thundered in my chest. This wasn't a dream, not as Milo stood there, smiling softly at me with his arm outstretched.
"I won't leave you, C," Milo said, and I was too busy looking into his eyes to notice that his mouth didn't match his words.
So I stepped forwards and forwards, reaching out to take the hand of the boy that I loved more than any one. The boy who, for the first time, I believed would never leave me. Never, ever. Trust wasn't an easy thing to give, but he already held my heart in his hands, why not my trust too?
I pressed my hand into his, but gasped when it slipped through. My heart thumped faster, the colour draining from my face as Milo stepped forward, through me and taking my soul with him. I turned robotically, Milo walking past me, away from me, and to... Lark? Long strawberry blonde hair loose and in a pristine white sundress, looking like a painting.
"No," I choked out, running forwards, but never getting closer. My feet pounded on the cloud-like ground, and I screamed and screamed as Milo took Lark's hand, pulling her close.
"Please don't leave me!" I cried, tripping on nothing. Everything hurt, everything. My back, my hands, my face. I could feel my split lip bleeding and my heart dying as Milo didn't turn to me.
Helefthelefthelefthe-
I sat up abruptly with a choked inhale, pain erupting from everything. I was in my bedroom, and everything was dark apart from a slither of light coming from a gap in my curtains. My skin was slick with sweat, my hair damp and plastered across my pale forehead, and I was shaking. My head whirled around, and I couldn't help but sob when I realised I was alone in my room.
I sobbed pathetically, crying tears I couldn't afford while pulling my knees to my chest, my blanket bunching up around my legs. I curled up into myself, head buried in my hands, my wings wrapping themselves around me the best that they could in their injured state.
"Milo..." I cried, breaths coming out in pained hiccups. "Milo... Milo... Milo..."
See? This is why he left. This is why everyone leaves. Because you're not alright, you're not okay, there's something wrong with you...
Something wrong.
"Oh my God, you're awake."
There was a clatter on the bedside table pressed against the bed, and the mattress suddenly dipped before a pair of arms wrapped themselves around me. Hands pressed against my head, pulling my face into a sturdy chest that smelled like home; like a warm blanket, fingers running up and down your back, a forehead kiss.
"Milo..." I whispered, my voice a broken, frail thing that made Milo shudder, his arms gathering all the fractured pieces of me closer and closer, trying to hold me together.
"I'm here, C," Milo said against my hair, fingers tickling my scalp. "I'm here."
"You left," I said, voice eerily calm as I began to slow my breaths, inhaling Milo's scent deeply. His T-shirt was soft, and I nuzzled my head into it, hands moving to fist the fabric of his shirt.
"Only to get us food," Milo said firmly, cradling the back of my head tenderly like I was glass. "I didn't think you would wake up while I was gone."
"I woke up and you weren't here," I said, finger tightening in Milo's shirt, before scrambling up and around to dig into his back. I felt Milo's sharp intake of breath against my face as my fingers clawed into him, and it probably hurt, but everything hurts.
"I know," Milo murmured, stroking my head softly, pressing a kiss to it again. "But I'm here now. I'm here, C."
"I'm scared," I said slowly, tilting my head up to look at Milo, who was already staring down at me with an expression of determination, fear and love all stirred together. His expression made my heart clench, the shattered organ bleeding through the fractured pieces of me once again. I was sure it was bleeding all over Milo, staining him and dirtying him and I knew I should push him away before I ruin him, and he ruins me, because that's what's going to happen.
That's what always happens.
"There's something wrong with me," I whimpered, shaking my head. "Milo, there's something wrong and I-"
"Please don't say that," Milo said, voice cracking as he moved his hands to cup my face. "There's nothing wrong with you, there's never been anything wrong with you, okay? I think... I think you may have some kind of... mental illness, C, but that doesn't mean that something is wrong with you. We can figure it out, together, okay? So please don't say that there's something wrong with y-"
"Then why does everyone leave me?!" I yelled, scuttling back from Milo, my boyfriend flinching when I pushed myself from him. I gathered my blanket up in my shaking hands, pulling it around me, as if the fabric could shield me from everything that hurts. "It's because I'm crazy, right?! Because there's something fucked up in my head, something that-"
"You're not crazy-"
"You just said that I was!" I screamed, lips pulling back from my teeth as I snarled. My head was so loud, all blurry with red and dark and I pulled at my long hair. "You can't fucking lie to me, or deceive me! You all think I'm fucking crazy because my head is a- a fucking mess and that's why you're going to leave me too, right?!"
"I didn't say that you were crazy, C," Milo said, voice pained as he reached forward, and I growled, pushing his hands away roughly.
"Don't touch me!" I spat, glaring at Milo, who looked at me with wide eyes, mouth parted in shock. "You... You don't get to touch me since you're just going to leave! You know what? Why don't you just go!" I said, laughing wildly, the sound grating and harsh, devoid of any amusement. "Do it! Leave! Go to... to MIT, like I know you wanted to! You got in once, you can do it again! So just get the fuck out like I know you will!"
I threw whatever I could grab from the bed and around it, throwing it at Milo. The first thing I threw - a pillow - hit his face in his frozen stupor, but when he registered what was happening he pushed it to the side, rising up onto his knees on the bed to try and get closer to me, face scrunched up with pain.
"Get out!" I shouted, grabbing the other pillow and throwing it at Milo, who caught it this time, placing it down beside him gently. "Fuck off! Get the fuck out! Leave me like you want to!"
"I'm not leaving, C," Milo said, voice slow, calm despite an undercurrent of roughness. "And... And I don't want to go to MIT. I want to stay with you. I'm not going to leave."
"You will! I know you will!" I cried, crawling up my bed to grab something from my desk - a comic book - and throwing it at Milo. He didn't stop looking me with the calm, determined mask on his race, unrelenting as he simply swatted the projectile onto the ground.
"I won't," Milo said again, shaking his head firmly. His voice was calmer now, barely a shake or a hitch in his words as he shuffled closer to the hurricane that surrounded me.
"Liar!" I yelled, throwing whatever I could get my hands on, Milo wincing a little as some of the things hit arms as he shielded his head, or thudded against his broad chest. "Just leave me!"
"I won't," Milo reiterated, grabbing my wrists in a firm yet gentle grasp, stopping me from throwing my heavy laptop charger at him. I struggled weakly against his arms, the heat from his touch making me melt, draining me.
"Let go of me," I said, voice breaking.
"I won't," Milo said again, the charger dropping from my hands with a thud on the ground. "I won't leave you either."
"You're lying," I said quietly, Milo giving me a small smile with a shake of his head. He tugged on my wrists, my pliant body collapsing forwards into his chest once again, slotting right in like the space was made for me.
"I'm not, just let me prove it to you, C. That I won't leave you," Milo said gently, pressing his promises into my skin as he cradled me in his embrace. "But you probably don't believe me, not right now, but I'll prove it to you. Because I love you. So much. Gott, so fucking much."
Milo was right, as he most often was. I didn't believe him, not completely, wholly, unwaveringly.
But, in his arms, the haze began to clear and maybe, just maybe - because definitely was only a faraway dream - I would be alright. Maybe it would be alright if I let my dirty heart bleed all over him and stain him to the core, because he was someone that didn't mind. Maybe he would wear my colours when no one else could, and maybe paint me in his own.
Because the colours of Milo's heart were beautiful and rich, and I would give anything to drown in them forever.
A/N: As always, thank you for reading darlings x