Word Count: 1836

~Luella

"Okay. This isn't funny."

The earnest in Thought's eyes are unnerving, because it almost makes me believe him. But it makes no sense. I've been dragged into this life with no explanation, and every time I seek one, I get more confusion. Revel has fled, not having contacted me since the utter failure at dinner the other day. Good, he's the last thing I need right now. He wanted me to break Thought's heart, and Fate wants me to win his heart. I think I know which I would rather.

"I'm not joking. I thought it would be a good excuse for you to come here more often," he tells me. I get to my feet, dismissing him with a wave of my arms. If he thinks for one second he can persuade me with those silver doe eyes and furrowed brow, he is very wrong.

"For someone who reads minds, you're not very perceptive, are you?" I mutter, heading toward the door. Thought trails after me.

He reaches for my arm, but I swipe it away. "Hey, don't leave. Don't you want an explanation?"

I pause, but only because I want to get my point through to him very clearly. "At this point, I don't believe anything that comes out of your mouth right now."

"So, you just assume that these dreams aren't from me?" he says, bringing me to a halt. Turning on my heels, I face him. His arms are crossed over his chest, as he looks at me like I'm surely looking at him right now. Stubborn.

"Don't go there," I threaten.

"Revel worked for me. Once. He was an assistant of mine, who wanted powers of his own. I was foolish to trust a Sin. The power got to his head, so I sent him off. He still remains like a brother to me, despite all that has happened," Thought admits. My hand hovers over the door handle, but I don't make the move.

This is what I was waiting for from Thought. Answers. However, answers with immortals don't come for free, which means he's expecting a prompt return of favour. I'm not willing to play his game, and end up worse off than before.

"Will you just let me go?" I ask. If he likes playing around with innocent girls in his spare time, I'm not interested. Eternity is a long time to live, but boredom from that is not my problem.

Thought goes to speak, but his voice falters. The sudden vulnerability in his eyes is more than I've ever seen in my life. In anyone. He swallows, then looks down his feet, going through in his head what he plans to say. He's been so quick witted and fast so far, I'm surprised that in this moment, he's lost for words.

He breathes in. "I'm in love with you."

"What. Why?" is first words to come out of my mouth out of sheer defense.

This can't be real. His words have accelerated my heartrate to the point I might fall into cardiac arrest, but I can't help it. Thought stares at me like a broken man, who looks purely mortal. Those dark curls, bright eyes and solemn expression appear so...real.

"It's a long story. Stay the night here, please," he exasperates, running his hands back through his hair. Standing here, I don't know what to do. If this is all an act out of manipulation, I don't know what I'll do. I've spent so long never thinking anyone could love me, hearing this is painful. Especially out of someone who knows not a thing about me.

"You're crazy. You and this entire immortal life is insane, and I want no part of it. Leave my sister be, and I'll never see you ever again," I snap, turning toward the door.

I can't even get out the door before he seizes my arm. "You're coming with me."

He pulls me toward him, and despite my protests, starts leading me upstairs. I try pull my sleeve out from under him, but it's pointless. He drags me, with him, as if what he is doing isn't completely wrong, as I pull with all my might against him. For the slender but masculine figure, he really has an odd amount of strength.

"This is kidnapping you psycho," I want to scream, put I hold myself back. It almost feels wrong to yell at him, to get angry at him. What is he doing to me?

"You're going to stay here, and you're going to have a dream. This dream will hopefully keep you here, explain a few things," he tells me, finally letting me go once we are upstairs, as he pushes the door open. "Just promise me you'll stay."

Glancing inside, I see a simple room with a bed right in the middle, perfectly made and ready to be slept in. What I hear out of Thought's mouth would seem crazy to the normal person, however, after all I've been through, my dreams have become the forefront of my life.

I fold my arms over my chest. "And what do I get in return?"

"Answers. Answers you've been waiting for," he tells me securely.

This night couldn't get any more insane. So despite what my brain is trying to tell me, I listen to my heart, which is calling to trust Thought. He should be the last person I feel comfortable with, but if I'm going to get answers, anything at this point is worth it, if there is a chance it will be real.

"Fine. Don't come in here," I mutter, looking at him pointedly. I mainly say that in case he gets any ideas about the dream I had earlier. As much as those thoughts excited me...I won't let that idea grow in my head.

"Believe it or not, you're safe with me," he tells me, as I close the door.

But am I?

Regardless, I clamber into the bed, resting my head on the pillow. I hope...no I pray to the Moon Goddess that I'll have the answers I'm looking for, and I can move on for all this.

It felt like waking, but everything is around me is hazy, unreal.

It feels as though the chains that have been lifted from me, that would otherwise bind me in these dreams. I've woken sitting in a chair, but the usual sensation of touching material objects fails to reach my fingertips. Standing up, I look around myself. I'm inside some kind of void of darkness, completely and utterly alone.

A bright light from behind me forces me to turn around. I see what looks like a projection of my own memories, which seems slightly blurry, but I can still what is going on. I can see me...

I sit there, appearing maybe in my mid-teenage years. This was back in the mortal land, back when I was alive and well. By my features – my jagged cut blonde hair that I thought would make me more popular in school, and my frumpy uniform – this is right after my mother's death.

My memory of her death isn't as bad as it should have been. My father was saddened, naturally, but he moved on relatively quickly, or at least that's what he made me think. It made growing up a lot easier, knowing he was always there for me. It's a shame me and Della passed away from an accident earlier than he did. As far as I know, he's still alive down there.

As for my mother...Who knows where in the immortal land she is.

However, despite how familiar this memory is, something is off. Della isn't in the picture, as dinner sits on the table. Not unusual. She locked herself in her room and hardly ever came out after mother's death. What is strange is the microwaved meal I'm eating, while my father sits in the lounge behind me, drinking out a glass bottle of whiskey.

As far as I'm aware, my father never drank. And he cooked dinner every night without fail, so seeing this doesn't make any sense. Thought must be manipulating this dream.

"Dad, you know it's the four-month anniversary since mother's death," I hear myself say.

"Didn't I tell you to stop counting the months. What's your problem anyway?" he replies.

I flinch, at the sound of the way he is talking to me. Or younger me. He never spoke to me like that all, so hearing this is like watching actors replay out my life. I watch child me get up, wiping a tear off my cheek before moving into my room. Seeing myself flop into bed, pulling my sheets over my head, switching my lamp off at the same time.

This is demented. Thought is torturing me, trying to make me see a rendition of my childhood that didn't actually happen. I'm cursing him until I see him walk into the room I'm looking into, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

I watch myself flip the cover back over my head, frightened by the sudden appearance of the figure at the end of my bed.

"You again," I say."

"Tonight, is the last night I'm going to be visible to you. I'm going to keep taking your pain away, but you're older now. It's time you stop relying on me, and live your life," Thought tells younger me. I'm staring at this projection of what must be a false memory, and it's frightening. Mainly because the feeling it gives me suggests it's not just an illusion.

I can see the expression of disappointment. "I can't deal with this alone. Della hates me, my dad is an alcoholic and mums gone...I don't know what I'll do without you."

"This isn't forever. You'll see me again. Later," he tells me.

This might be a dream, but this feels so real. I'm watching my younger self and Thought have a conversation that I don't remember.

"Fine, take the pain away," I tell him, laying back down against the pillow. He places his hand against my forehead, which visibly displays nothing, but I know what he is doing. He's getting into my head, stripping memories while creating new ones in their place. The moment he is done, he stands up, and immediately vanishes, and the projection ends.

I saw all I needed to see, but I have so many questions. How long has Thought been doing this? Is any of my childhood even been real? Did I have a relationship with him before he stole my memories?

Most importantly, why?

💚••💚

So if you're interested in reading more, Thought is up on Radish ten chapters ahead of Wattpad! Hope you guys check it out (:

♻️••♻️

If you guys liked Alpha Kaden, it is now been rewritten and revamped by other writers on an App called Galatea. Go check it out if you're interested (:

Instagram: Sophie_Midika

~Midika 💜🐼