Cassie had only experienced it once. At a distance. Calm waves breaking on smooth, flat sand.

The ocean was not something her mind would ever let her forget, though.

The water. Its patience. Its power over time. The sound. The scent. It was peaceful. Restorative. Even though it reminded her of someone.

Her dream-eyes opened.

She was indeed on a beach, but it was neither sunny nor warm. Dreary and sad, it seemed apt for her state of mind and being. 

The sky was completely overcast—a thick, billowing shade of gray. Cool but not cold. The tide was steadily advancing, splash by splatter. Nothing too intense, though. She wasn't afraid. This body of water was behaving realistically. It was perhaps the tropics having an off day.

She was at the fringe of the sand, below an awning of plant-life. She had some protection from the misty drizzle, but the air was saturated regardless. There was no escape from the moisture. It was everywhere, enough to make her shiver. And once she started, she could not stop. 

She wished she could leave before the chill got beyond a point she could recover from it. 

Cassie was about to get up from the ball she had wrapped herself in. Her knees were bent, her ankles crossed, and her arms were clasped around her knees.

Loosening up a little, she discovered that she was covered in sand, as if she had been damp and decided to coat herself in it. She was completely naked otherwise. Even so, she was determined to return to the deep darkness she was accustomed to. It was never very far.

She wouldn't be so exposed. The sand wouldn't be abrasive every time she twitched. There'd be no reminders—that brief moment in time when she was truly happy. She wouldn't be crying more deeply and consistently than the sky. She didn't even have a reason for the tears just yet.

In darkness, she would just be. . . albeit barely.

Terrifying. But familiar and painless. . .

She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, amid the greenery, the color dampened in the gloom, there was a black hole not far behind her, rippling in the ocean breeze. Its constant hiss was a call to her. She could end her suffering once and for all.  

Cassie set a hand on the ground. She would get up. Her knees opened. She was ready to test her legs. 

"You let me back in. . . ."

Cassie clenched shut again like an oyster protecting a pearl. At the same time, her gaze flicked to the left, toward a voice she would recognize anywhere. How could something so contradictory be so beautiful? Firm but gentle. It had a steadiness that always made her waver . . . flounder . . . falter.  

No lead up. No preamble. No slow and deliberate emergence from the water, glistening in the sun.

Christopher MacRae was simply standing a few paces away all of a sudden. He was dry, fully clothed, all in white. He had his thumbs hooked in his pockets. He crossed one foot over the other. In his fairy state, he took a casual stance with his shoulder leaning against the trunk of a palm tree, massive in comparison.

If he had been struggling to find her, it certainly didn't show. Unlike her, he was actually wearing clothes. And because life was not fair, they were spotless.

His lips parted into a slight smile. He was composed and in control. Confident, calm, and collected.

And it was infuriating.

"It was a mistake. I assure you," she responded, forcing her eyes forward. If she looked away, maybe he would, too. She didn't want him to see her like this. Filthy. Disheveled. Scarred. Touched unkindly more times than not. In more ways than one, she was marked and it was brutally apparent. So helpless. So tiny and insignificant. So utterly in need of him it was pathetic. "Why did you come? Is it to punish me?"

He studied her while he searched for the words to say. His smile diminished. His eyes seemed to falter under pressure. They dropped to the sand. "I think you've been through enough." He looked back up.

As he gauged her reaction, Cassie tilted her head to the gray sky above in attempt to counteract gravity. She had shed enough tears for him. "Have I? You're . . . you're dead. And this isn't helping."

"Do you really think I'd be here if I was?"

Her eyes were too heavy, full and about to overflow. There was no sense trying to stop the deluge. Once the tears escaped, she was about to wipe them away. The sand on her hands and arms averted the urge, however. There was nothing she could do. She had to let them run their course.

"Maybe you're dead to me," she replied, sniffling. "Did you ever consider that? I don't want you here."

He took a tentative step closer her. "I don't believe that. You called. I answered. It was a pull I couldn't resist."

"You're lying!" she shouted, and she successfully stopped his progress. "You're simply a figment of my imagination. You always were, weren't you? All the dreams over the years? They all meant nothing. In life, you were unreachable."

"No, we have a connection. You made the connection, before we even met. Can't you feel it? I'm a part of you. I won't ever leave you."

"You already have."

He didn't have a response for that.

"I . . . I can't," she stuttered through a jagged breath. She shook her head too, as a means to reinforce her words. "I can't do this."

He tried to take another step closer. He lifted a hand, perhaps with the intention to comfort her. Didn't he know it would do more harm than good?

"No, please stop!"

His hand slowly withdrew. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just go. That's all I ask. Leave me alone! Never return. Please, I beg you. I—"  

Chris began to fade. She saw clouds, surf, and sand through him, better than she could see him. It was getting worse by the millisecond.

She was almost compelled to stand, and chase after him . . . an illusion. The bitterness took over, though. It had made her so much colder and wiser. Other than the involuntary twitch of desperation, she remained still and seated, her body closed and taut. "Now you decide to listen? I am lost. I feel dead inside. There is no hope for me! And you leave at the first sign of strife. You don't even have the decency to say goodbye!"

"You have magic. You are extraordinary. Everything else will sort itself out," whispered the whirling breeze, all that was left of him. "You'll be saved. Soon. I promise. . . ."

⭐️⭐️⭐️

SYML. Where's My Love.

~

"Did you run away?

Did you run away? I don't need to know.

If you ran away,

If you ran way. Come back home.

Just come home."

https://youtu.be/NvwnIZX-1cs