STRIKHEDONIA // Dream x Reader

1

Your bedroom, the room you came to know every square inch of. The same white and baby blue walls, every corner etched with quartz. Every day spent laying on your bed, so many stories wondered up and finished within these walls.
The naval blue spread on the bed a pain to look at anymore from years of usage, still in up keep.
The old wooden record player was your only sense of background noise. So many old records lined up on your self in the opposite corner that barely enough room for books was left.
The same wall sized windows, every arch at the top jutting out ever so slightly.

You walk to the old shelf, shuffling through the vinyl sleeves. Some covered in a thin layer of dust from lack of use and others cleaner than a newborn baby from overuse. Yet no matter how many times you use these old records, playing the same songs over they will never change.
Chirp was a favorite, played over a million times if counted.
Yet you slide it out of the sleeve - muscle memory at this point - gently laying it on the turntable.

Letting it spin you lay down the needle and the player crackles to life. The old brass speaker on top singing you a melody. Turning it up you spin around, your dress sweeping around your legs and kicking out with each step towards the balcony.

Pausing at your nightstand you stare at the picture frame. A woman with beautiful long flowing hair and a smile so big her cheeks disappear sits to the right. To the left sits a tall male, his lips only slightly twitched up into a smile, almost hidden by the scruff of a beard. Both hold a baby that sits in the middle. I loving family, mother, father, and daughter.
Life seemed to be easier then, when you were only commons folk. Just enough money in the bank to last a week.
But following the death of your mother your father gained a fortune, taking the chance to force you away into hiding, to protect you.

Twisting open the balcony doors you step out into the only freedom you've ever known. The wind soft against your skin. Down below the towns folk make their way round, going about their daily business.

You look out beyond the towns folk, to the forest that lead beyond to the unknown. If your mother hadn't 've passed life would be the same. You could run with the other kids into the woods, playing games and having fun.
What was is like to go into the woods? You wondered. Was it dangerous? Was it safe?

The tall white oak doors behind you open. Noctia walks in, her dark skin and vivid purple eyes true to her people - enderman - she wears a white button up and and black blazer above it. A red tie hangs from her neck and her infamous cuffed sleeves loose against her small wrists. Behind her walks her brother, Imbra. His attire matched that of his sister, both identical in looks. His hair pulled back into a low handing pony tail, just low enough to drape over his shoulder.
From outside eyes they could be confused for the same person.

"Y/n" Imbra nods.
You step away from the balcony and into your room. Noctia shuts the windows behind you.
You nod back.

They came into your life after the death of your mother. Imbra was a personal servant to your father and Noctia was yours. Over the years you grew close to Imbra, he became your best a only friend. He told you of all of his adventures with your father and told you all of his stresses and worries. He kept you happy and you kept him sane.

"Your father wishes to talk," Noctia tells you, turning and leaving your room.
Imbra steps forward, flashing you the sweet and loving smile.
"I wish my sister was like me, maybe she could care for you better." He says.
Imbra offers out his hand, long dark fingers welcoming you. Gladly you take it, lacing your fingers with his.

"Can't you just trade places?" You mutter and lean your head against him.
Imbra sighs, his gaze looking out of the window and past the forrest.
"Sadly no, Noctia would never allow it. You know that."

It was sad. Having to be stuck with a rather emotionless helper, you loved Noctia just as much as the next but she was so work oriented that it's all she ever focused on
For so many years it's been like this and has never changed, the times it was the worst was when your father left on business trips, usually taking Imbra with him. Noctia never spent any time with you and you felt bitter towards her for that.

"C'mon, you need to speak with your father before he angers." Imbra snaps you from your thoughts. Picking your head up you sighed, letting him teleport you in front of his office. The air dispersed, for a moment it felt like time screeched to a halt. Your feet hit the floor again and time returned to regular speed. A feeling you had known for almost your whole life.

Imbra steps in front of you, opening the oak doors and allowing you in.
Stepping into the office you make your way to the seat in front of the desk, quietly sitting down and waiting. The door shuts behind you, Imbra standing with his hands behind his back.
Noctia is no where to be seen.