Work Text:
Reuenthal was dreaming.
He was laying in bed, and could feel the warmth of someone beside him, holding him tight. The warmth made him feel calm, happy.
Who was it? He turned to look.
Of course.
It was him.
But the warm touch was slowly fading, becoming icy-cold. The change in temperature startled Reuenthal, awakening him from his slumber.
There was someone asleep next to him, but it was not the person he was dreaming about.
He looked at the woman's face, her features framed by her blonde hair, messy from the night they had spent together. Her expression appeared angry, even in sleep. As he realised that it had been her cold touch that he had felt, his happiness was replaced with anxiety, bitterness, disgust.
Why was she still here? Why had he let her stay? Why had they even started this relationship in the first place?
No, relationship was not the right word.
She did not love him. And he did not love her.
He never would.
There was only one person that he loved.
The person he was dreaming about.
But he knew it was impossible for them to be together.
He turned away from the woman beside him, closed his eyes, and tried to fall asleep again.
So he could forget about her.
So he would not be here.
So he could be in his dreams, with the one he truly loved.