You missed Misha, you missed him a lot.

From the way his soft doe eyes gazed upon you, to how to his cheeks lifted when he smiled at you, the way his face takes shape when he spoke, his soft-girlish voice. You missed it all. So the idea of having to grief a boy who never truly existed was a confusing, dreadful process. Your heart forever left a piece incomplete now that he is gone.

You ask yourself why this dream had to hurt the most, but you had not a single answer

Even in your dreams, you dream of yourself surrounded in a field of warmth— Blue Hyacinths. Enchanted with gentle gloved hands holding your shoulders, hand, the side of your arms when the memetic being embraced you, to wipe away your surreal tears.

All you wanted to do was hope that you fall asleep into slumber every time you woke up, the express tried— but they could only do so much. You wanted him back, for him to feel real again.

But he would not.

A gentle hand rested on top of yours, light blue locks laid onto their support; your shoulder. Silence, an attempt at comfort, yearning for eternity. Yearning for where you were oblivious, yearning to go back and stay in that very dream.

Misha never felt your side, as long as you were in this dream. Staring out into made-up fake scenery. His lashes flutter as he blinks each second that goes by. A warm smile painted on his beautiful face. This was solace. This was longing.