What if... (hfjONE-shots)

...Airy Returned to Earth (Pt.16)

Hiya Edgelings!

Dying Sanity AU (Pt.18)

WE ARE SO BACK!!!! :DDDD

I don’t got much to say for this one, so without further ado, enjoy!

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The whisper of breath.

Breath in.

Breathe out.

The smooth, light air flowing down the throat easily. Delicious and sweet like sugar water, the chill lingering on the tongue until the warm exhale breezed over it, washing away the cool sensation. Then once again fresh air was invited in, the cycle repeating in a slow relaxed manner. Taking it’s time, no rush.

Peaceful.

The air slowly began to taste of pine sap, every inhale bringing in a bit more of the flavor. Colors gently blossom and bled together like watercolor paint. Greens of all shades. Deep mysterious lines of dark green, waving spirals of soft, pastel light green. Robust browns and rough tans grew up from the center of the spirals, weaving together like yarn into draping vertical scarves stretching up into crystal blue paint strokes. The dark green lines floated over to marry the brown stalks. The blue strokes separated from the pastel green spirals, creating a sense of direction. A distinction between up and down.

The smell of pine grew stronger as the vague separation of colors sharpened, the fuzzy lines taking on definition and texture. A world was being slowly constructed, piece by piece. A forest. Even as everything came into focus, it retained the appearance of paint. As though the trees truly had been painted onto the sky, the brush strokes evident.

In a sudden snap of realization, the world became conscious.

The consciousness focused on one area, collecting and consolidating into a single point. Feeling weaved itself into the illusion of limbs. The breathing matched the breeze blowing through the forest, it would blow one way for a while, cool and fresh, then it would change directions and temperature, becoming warm and humid.

The conscious took a moment to comprehend the scene…

…then blinked. Everything became tangible.

He was awake. Awake but not awake.

The feeling on his skin was strange. If he concentrated, he could feel the wind, but if he stopped focusing, the feeling would stop. If he focused, he could hear the crashing of a waterfall in the distance, but if he stopped concentrating the noise would go silent. Everything felt so real, yet also so strangely light. He felt light.

He walked through the grass. He could feel the cool blades of grass. Were they cool or warm? He couldn’t tell… they felt like both somehow. He looked up a the sky to locate the sun, hoping that would orient him as to whether or not he should be feeling warm or cold. But there was no sun, only a strangely bright crescent moon illuminating the clear day sky, which did little to help him understand his surroundings, but it did not feel wrong. In fact… Everything felt just right.

He glanced down from the sky. He was carrying a basket now. Where did it come from? He didn’t know, but that was irrelevant. He rubbed his thumb along the tightly woven reed stalks, smiling at the specific familiarity of the texture. Many attempts had been made before this one, but either the reeds were too thin or the weave was too loose and they came apart… but this one? This one was just right.