college - sapnap×reader

chapter 5 - the dream

character/setting development chapter😏
! cw : mentions of abuse & trauma , hinting at depersonalization / depression

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a soft white cloud shrouded you. nervous pants expelled from your mouth. the zephyr was brisk, yet the air was heavy with a thick fog. you looked around, unable to comprehend this moment. the thumping from your chest thundered in the silent climate. you felt paralyzed, zipped up at the lips and tied at the hands. neon yellow orbs of electricity dripped from your fingertips, but instead of resting on the fluffy surface, they sunk right past your bare feet, as if you were lighter than air.

you studied the surroundings, at least, what you could look at. it was lucid. the clouds were granular, down to the very last curve and rigid bump; some even had small holes in them, allowing you to distinguish house-shaped dots, almost thousands of miles below you. you grew despondent. invisible chains locked you in your standing position, mirages appeared and just as quick disappeared, leaving you alone in this vast expanse of clouds. they seemed to stretch for miles in each direction, trapping you, confining you, imprisonating you in this mystical setting.

you were pusillanimous. you've never felt like this, trapped in an unfamiliar world, enclosed in a state of helplessness— oh.

your mind contorted in agony. your limbs were crushing one another, bones shriveling up and condensing themselves. you began to shrink too, your hair was cut, in a jagged line, your clothes ripped and dirtied, and your bare feet were gashed and wet. and then you fell through the clouds.

"hey kid." you had heard this voice once before, where? you couldn't answer that. but it felt so familiar, so close, so... real. your eyes opened, you were huddled in a box in times square, rain pouring and seeping through the dampened surface.  you spoke, straining your damaged vocal cords, "s-sir?" you were taken aback by the change in sound. it was like you were 15 years younger. the man reached a decrepit, frail hand towards yours and you backed up, unsure of your safety. he drew his hand back, and leaned down so he was in view. and there he was. your dad.

dried sweat stained your pillow, while freshly formed beads rolled down your forehead. what just happened? you though, grasping onto the last scenes of your dream. you closed your eyes again, trying to picture him, to reach your hand out, to hold him.

the room you chose in the airbnb was less than cozy. you guessed the owners had gone for the psych ward cottagecore minimalist look, judging by the sterile furniture around you. a white leather chair was placed in the corner, adjacent to the white closet. the bed was white with a brown comforter and a sage green blanket, and the bedside table was metal and white, with a singular cactus. outlets were few and far between, so you had to charge your phone across the room.

you glanced at each piece of furniture dotted across the room. it wasn't bad, but it didn't give you any comfort. the only thing that did was the man sleeping next to you.

you thought back to your actions of last night, and then the odd request in the shower. it could mean a number of things— he prefers to keep his sex life private, which is pretty understandable, one of his friends wanted you, he thought he did bad, or in contrary, he though you did bad. possibilities flowed through your brain, ricocheting off each surface and bouncing strait to your amygdala.

that was who you were. an over thinker, a worrier, a stuck in the possibilities instead of the outcomes type of girl. it came in handy sometimes, but most of the time it was a nuisance. it stemmed from, well you couldn't remember, in fact, the dream was one of the only memories of your childhood you had. once again, you reviewed it and tried to picture the man one last time, holding onto the surge of emotion he gave you.