My Only Sunshine

London, 2015

A two-lane highway. An open-top sports car. A clear blue sky.

The speedometer shows an 85-mph speed. The wind is blasting, and there's a letter in his hand; his eyes aren't on the road. The words are blurred, but one line stands out.

"One more chance, my love, one more; that is all I ask you, for I cannot breathe without you."

He looks up but sees nothing: no road, no sky. Everything is black now. But through the darkness, he sees a piercing pair of clear blue eyes. Ocean deep, so beautiful, yet filled with sorrow. Then, a loud crash. He is falling. He tries to hold on to something, but nothing seems to be within reach. He knows this feeling; it feels too familiar. He is going to hit the ground any second now. He squeezes his eyes shut to brace himself for the pain he knows will encompass him as soon as his body hits the cold, hard ground. He winces, clenching his fists.

...

Harry gasped as he opened his eyes. Everything was pitch black around him. He is drenched in sweat, thick brown curls plastered onto his forehead and neck. He ran his fingers through his hair. It's the same fucking dream over and over again.

Ever since he turned eighteen, Harry has been having night terrors. It's the same dream over and over again. He's driving a sports car on a highway he has never seen before; he has a letter in his hand, and when he looks up, everything goes dark, and he sees a pair of blue eyes. Then he hears a loud crash and he senses an endless fall, which goes on for an uncomfortably long time until he finally wakes up in his bed.

Harry reached for his phone in the dark to check the time, although he knew bloody well that it had to be the same time as always.

Yes, of course. 2:54 AM. That's the exact time he always wakes up. It's painfully frustrating how often this has been happening. First, it was just once or twice a month, but now it has come to at least twice a week.

He grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand and downed half of it. What is even more frustrating than waking up abruptly is trying to go back to sleep. Every time he tried to close his eyes, he would see those eyes. He didn't mind seeing them because they were honestly the most beautiful pair he had ever seen in a dream and, quite honestly, in real life as well. The blue in those eyes encompassed him. The only problem was that, with the blue, the sorrow too encompassed him. He felt the sadness in those eyes slowly creeping into his chest, tugging at his heart. Every time he saw those eyes, he felt like reaching out his palm to catch the tears that were almost ready to fall.

He checked his phone again to see if he had the alarm set for 7.00 AM. He cannot afford to stand another lecture on tardiness from Mr. Thornton, whose lecture was unfortunately always the first on every fucking day. There is nothing more terrifying in the Department of Fine Arts for Harry than the face of Mr. Thornton in the morning.

If he knew this much was required to become an actor, he would've opted for rugby as his choice of career, which honestly would have been less problematic given the situation he was in now. Now, he just played rugby as an extracurricular on campus. Who knew a degree in acting would be so much of work? He sighed and placed his head on the pillow again. So much for choosing the "effortless" option, or so he had thought.

It took some tossing and turning for him to finally fall asleep, and when he did, the blue eyes had drifted far away and didn't come back to haunt him in his sleep. At least for that night.

~~~

Harry groaned and pulled the duvet over his head to stop the sun rays from hitting his eyes. He wasn't ready to open them, not yet.

Wait, sun rays? He jolted out of bed, and it gave him a headrush. He frantically searched for his phone, which he was sure he kept back on the nightstand yesterday but now seemed to have vanished. He ran around the room like a maniac trying to find it until he tripped over his duvet, which was on the floor now, and fell flat on his face, something painfully poking his belly. His phone. Of fucking course. How did it get on the floor? He didn't even want to know.