𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹, 𝓕𝓾𝓷 & 𝓕𝓵𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 | 𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼 𝓞𝓹𝓮𝓷

» 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 | 𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 «

Key:

Eye Colour - E/C
Skin Colour - S/C
Hair Colour - H/C
Hair Length - H/L
Your Name - Y/N

-*-

Amongst the whiplashes, the golden sand and the many inconvenient nights, there's little he could do, but spare you a few quick glances. 

That first time when he came, you had already been asleep. He'd been fully prepared too, to wander over casually up to the place where you slept, seeming so comfortable and undisturbed, with a cheesy little dream, floating above your head, of two figures dancing in circles. A man holding a woman tenderly, as she looked to him, bedazzled, enamoured, mesmerised. 

It seemed so pathetic then, and yet, as he reached out to snuff the light out, to corrupt the glittering golden sand, it was almost as though he was stung, for he pulled away all too soon, leaving your dream as it were. He was about to scowl at whatever had stopped him, when he looked down at your softly smiling expression. 

He couldn't do it. 

He couldn't ruin a dream like that. 

So instead he hid away, backing up into the shadows, up against the doors of your closet as the creator of this very dream descended, walking through the gap in your window and entering your room. 

The little man glowered, glancing around and narrowing his eyes at the darkened room, searching for his nemesis, and finding now one. Still, Pitch new he could not stick around for long and did not plan to. He was not fond of being trapped and forced to stay still. Alas, he had to make do with that now and watched silently. 

Sanderson walked up to you, presumably to strengthen your dream. Yet, as he touched the sandy figure of the male, it seemed to squirm and then fall apart, and with it, fell apart the peace inside of the female dreamer. You whimpered, screwing your eyes shut tight. Your hands seemed to shift, grasping at something. The nightmare king tensed, wondering how it ever came to it, but knowing he could not get an answer just yet. 

He watched as the sack of sand huffed, frustrated, turned away and stormed off. Apparently, things were not going completely to plan. For once, it had not been Pitch's fault, either. 

-*-

A few nights later, he had not the chance to encroach upon you and see if you'd have a similarly odd dream again. Instead, he walked in on you as you were finishing off something on your computer, typing away frantically. It was a dissertation of course, but he would not have - could not have - known that. Not having known you for as short a time as he did. 

So he came to hide inside the closet, watching you, only to feel you, before he could even quite see you watching him. 

-*-

There was something in that closet - you knew there had to be. Those golden-silver orbs of light had not appeared out of nowhere and did not seemed to belong to anything that you had ever owned. However, you were much too anxious as it were, what with your dissertation deadline coming up, to so much as move. 

Instead, you silently sat. Completely still. You barely dared breathe. Yet, as soon as you blinked, those golden lights were gone. As if nothing had happened. As if perhaps it were just a dream. You rubbed at your eyes and turned around, looking back to your computer screen. Part of you wished those eye-shaped lights were the worst of your problems. 

-*-

It was three in the morning. Darkness spread across your living room, consuming every smidgen of light. Without being in close proximity to the light switches, you felt utterly defenceless and felt the need to curse yourself. Backing up to reach the closest light switched around, you had managed to trip up over your own things and almost fall, stumbling back several steps. So, instead, the best option seemed to give up and just get to the kitchen without seeing a thing.