![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
[ooc] EDENSPHERE DREAM
Eyes study him; he can feel them on him, burning through his skin and muscles and bones to read his soul, and that makes him afraid. So terribly afraid. Afraid of what, he doesn't know, but to have someone see that deeply into his soul chills him.
"Stop staring and come out," he says, although he doesn't back down or shy away from that gaze; it would be futile, he knows instinctively, and somewhere deep inside he realizes he doesn't want to.
He glances around, searching for the person, but no one is there; there is only the expanse of sand at his feet and the ocean in the distance. And laughter, from all around him, and more eyes that watch him, but none of them burn as deeply as that first.
The laughter distracts him from that gaze for a moment, and he looks around, hoping to see someone, anyone, but still, no one is there. There is only the ocean, calling out to him, and he steps forward, one step following another, until the water rushes him to greet him, soaking his feet, his legs.
There should be someone standing in the water, he thinks abruptly, but there's not. Only him, only the sand and the sky and the water.
Something lodges in his throat and it feels almost like he can't breathe; his chest constricts and the sky in front of his eyes blurs.
"I'm back," a voice says, achingly familiar, and a hand tighens around his arm for a brief instance. He closes his eyes, enjoying that simple touch more than he should, only to feel the hand disappear. He can still feel the hand around his arm when he opens his eyes, but it's only a memory. The only thing that is really there is the ocean.
"Stop staring and come out," he says, although he doesn't back down or shy away from that gaze; it would be futile, he knows instinctively, and somewhere deep inside he realizes he doesn't want to.
He glances around, searching for the person, but no one is there; there is only the expanse of sand at his feet and the ocean in the distance. And laughter, from all around him, and more eyes that watch him, but none of them burn as deeply as that first.
The laughter distracts him from that gaze for a moment, and he looks around, hoping to see someone, anyone, but still, no one is there. There is only the ocean, calling out to him, and he steps forward, one step following another, until the water rushes him to greet him, soaking his feet, his legs.
There should be someone standing in the water, he thinks abruptly, but there's not. Only him, only the sand and the sky and the water.
Something lodges in his throat and it feels almost like he can't breathe; his chest constricts and the sky in front of his eyes blurs.
"I'm back," a voice says, achingly familiar, and a hand tighens around his arm for a brief instance. He closes his eyes, enjoying that simple touch more than he should, only to feel the hand disappear. He can still feel the hand around his arm when he opens his eyes, but it's only a memory. The only thing that is really there is the ocean.
