Love Bites

Chapter 10: Chai Tea and Honey

warnings: panic attack mention

It's cold.

It's so cold it hurts. It hurts Dream's fingers to run over the water's surface. The trickle of the fountain rings in his ears like an explosion, despite being barely audible. Each drip, each splash on his skin, each wade rippling from the stream of water at the top, it all begins to consume him and eat him whole as his mind begins to cloud like the sky.

It's been a long time since he's come to this fountain. The last time it was like this— dead of night, only the sound of water, nobody outside— must've been when he first turned.

A young teen boy, stumbling through the woods, starving, bleeding from the neck, but not dead. That's what he had been. Dream remembered thinking the fountain could wash his wounds.

The fountain was in town. Someone in town would understand.

Except when that happened, there was someone at the fountain.

It was his mother. Mourning her lost child in the center of the village at midnight, head in her hands. Dream remembered approaching her, so relieved. He thought she would be, too.

Needless to say, though, his mom wasn't very relieved once she didn't see his reflection in the fountain.

He never saw her again after that.

The wind feels more bitter all of the sudden. Dream doesn't move, though. He doesn't feel he deserves the comfort of warmth as he lifts his head to the sky with tired eyes.

The only light left, all the time, was the moon. The moon is the same no matter where you are.

I wonder what the chances are that George is looking at the moon right now, too.

Looking down from the sky, he stares into the water, nearly black with the reflecting night sky. Like always, he's met with no reflection. Deep down he yearns to see his own face again. Maybe I wouldn't like what I see. No matter what I look like, I'd be a monster. Maybe it's better I don't have a face to put myself to.

Dream's fingers curl and tighten into a fist.

Why did I have to become a goddamn vampire? Life is just one big, cruel joke, isn't it?

His heart rate spikes, suddenly, rage filling him like lava flowing through his veins. His pupils constrict, directionless anger quickly erupting.

Doesn't matter what I am, vampire or human. I've never done anything right.

Before he can even register his own actions, he plunges a fist into the fountain's stone with years of pent up rage, suffering and hurt behind it.

The entire top of the fountain collapses with a loud crash, rubble flying with the collision and water splashing outwards. He grips the edge of the pool at the bottom and breaks off a chunk of stone, forcing more to crack. Coins and water spill onto the street.

Dream breathes heavily, teeth bared as he stares at the mess of collapsed fountain remnants at his feet.

He lets out an inappropriate laugh, combing his hair back with a dirty hand. What the hell did I just do?

"HEY!"

He turns around and looks to the source of the noise. A group of men stand behind him, one gripping the handle of a long, silver pitchfork. I shouldn't have made a scene. This was definitely stupid.

Fuck.

The moment of silence only lasts a moment before Dream's on his feet, running like his life depends on it (because it does).