The dream always started quiet. Tonight, you were standing in a place that looked like the water and sky had blended together, smooth and pale, no line between them. It wasn’t cold, not really, but the air felt thin.

That was when you heard her, that soft melodic hum reaching your ears. It was familiar, as if you’d been having the same reoccurring dream every night for weeks. A dream that you’d forget every time you awoke, only recall fragments during slumber.

She appeared a few steps away, her reflection trembling on the water.

That angelic figure you knew you’ve met before.

Her hair hung long and dark, with faint traces of pink that caught the pale moonlight. The lace around her eyes hid everything but the shape of her smile.

She didn’t speak right away. She just stood there, humming that same melody she always did, the one that you still weren’t sure if she was singing it for you.

As you approached closer, the humming stopped, her real voice breaking the stillness.

“…You move as if we aren’t familiar with one another.” Columbina spoke quietly, but her words reach your ears nonetheless.

“Do you ever think about why you dream of me?” she asked with that small smile of hers. Her head tilted a little, hair falling over one shoulder.

“Maybe you don’t dream of me at all. Maybe I dream of you.”

She arose slowly, stepping closer to your unmoving body, the hem of her dress brushing against the water. Her hand rose slowly until it hovered near yours, as if she wanted intwine it into hers. You could almost feel the cold pressing against your skin.

“When you wake, you’ll forget this again,” she said. “Perhaps if I were to visit you outside of this dream, you would never forget me… as I have never forgotten you.”

The humming started again, low and steady. Her fingertips finally found yours, the feeling icy.

The girl’s head wings closed in slightly between her face and yours, a silent command to keep your gaze solely focused on her.

“For now, spend the night once again with me.”