That Stranger || BL || BrightGulf

7. Illusion.

As disappointment washed over Bright like a cold wave, he realized he had no network signal. Panic set in, his heart racing with every passing second. He swiftly turned around, his eyes scanning the desolate landscape for the spot where he left the stranger.

His feet carried him back to the abandoned road, his gaze frantically searching every inch of the area. But to his horror, the stranger was nowhere to be found. Bright's mind reeled, his thoughts tangled in a web of fear and regret.

He ensured he was searching the right place, screaming and yelling out names to locate the stranger. "OH God, where are you?" he cried, his voice echoing through the darkness. Self-doubt crept in, taunting him for leaving the stranger alone.

Bright's feet dragged him along the abandoned road, searching every corner, every shadow. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by his labored breathing. His eyes strained to penetrate the darkness, but it seemed to swallow everything whole.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his head, as if struck by an invisible rod. Dizziness washed over him, threatening to pull him under. Bright stumbled, his vision blurring at the edges.

He somehow managed to walk, though his legs felt like leaden weights. His senses reeled, disorienting him. Yelling and screaming for the stranger, Bright prayed for salvation, his voice hoarse from shouting.

After struggling for what felt like an eternity, his body finally gave in. His legs dropped to the ground, and his hands squeezed his throbbing head. The world spun around him, a maddening vortex.

Just as darkness closed in, a pair of headlights pierced the night, illuminating the deserted road. A car approached, its tires crunching on gravel. Bright reached out, his hands pleading for help.

A warm embrace enveloped his shoulders, and a familiar voice called out his name. Squinting, Bright saw Mild's concerned face.

"Mild!" Bright exclaimed, relief washing over him.

With Mild's support, Bright stumbled toward the passenger seat. As he collapsed into the seat, he turned his head, pointing back at the dark place he escaped.

Mild hesitated, his eyes questioning, but he nodded and ventured into the darkness. Bright watched, anxiety gnawing at his heart.

"Mild, be careful!" Bright warned, his voice barely above a whisper.

The darkness seemed to swallow Mild whole, leaving Bright alone in the car. The silence was oppressive, heavy with anticipation. Bright's heart pounded, waiting for Mild's return.

Suddenly, Mild reappeared, his face illuminated by the car's interior light. "No one's there," Mild said, his voice firm.

Bright's relief was palpable, but his mind lingered on the stranger's fate. Had he imagined the whole encounter? The questions swirled, but for now, he was safe, and that was all that mattered.

The car drive was shrouded in an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional passing streetlight. Mild's gaze flicked toward Bright, his brow furrowed in concern. Something was amiss, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Mild sensed a depth to Bright's silence, a weight that seemed to press upon his shoulders. His usual effervescence was replaced by a somber introspection, a contemplation that bordered on despair.

Their eyes met sporadically, exchanging unspoken messages. The silence between them was a palpable entity, speaking volumes about the turmoil brewing within Bright.

As they arrived at the hotel suite, Mild's concern escalated. He ushered Bright inside, helping him onto the plush bed. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm ambiance, but Bright's eyes seemed lost in the shadows.

Mild swiftly called for a doctor, his worry evident in every word. "He's not himself," Mild explained, his voice laced with urgency. "He's had migraines before, but this seems different."

The doctor arrived promptly, her face a picture of professionalism. She examined Bright, her hands moving with gentle precision. After a series of questions and tests, she prescribed medication and departed, leaving Mild to tend to his friend.

As the medication took hold, Bright's eyelids drooped, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Mild watched, relief washing over him, and tucked Bright under the blanket.

"I'll never leave you alone, Bright," Mild whispered, his voice barely audible. "You're safe now." With one last glance, Mild exited the room, leaving Bright to rest.

Bright's eyes shot open as he heard Mild's footsteps fade into the distance. He lay still, his mind reeling with the events of the evening. Confusion swirled, mingling with the remnants of his migraine.

He tossed off the covers and padded to the window, the cool glass a welcome respite against his forehead. The city below twinkled like stars, but Bright's gaze was inward, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts.

"What really happened tonight?" he wondered, his voice barely above a whisper. The questions swirled, taunting him with possibilities.

And then, like a specter, the stranger's face materialized in his mind.

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ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐚🪐་༘࿐