Aizawa jolted awake, gasping, his hands tearing off the sheets covering him as he thrashed in bed.
He'd had the dream again, but this time it was Elly that pushed him away to safety while she burned to death. Unlike the dream with his mother, he understood their peril and believed he could save her. All he needed was to reach out his hand and pull her out, but every time he tried she slipped further away.
She didn't scream.
She told him she loved him three times over before succumbing to the flames.
He sat with his head in his hands, his tangled hair falling down to hide tear-stained, stubbled cheeks. It had been only a couple of days, but he couldn't sleep and his heart ached like a hole had been torn out of it. He sighed shakily and looked out the window at the beach stained pink with sunrise.
<i>She often sang old songs in the morn as she stoked the fire</i>, he thought as he got up. <i>Come to think of it, when she found her cup, as if it cheered her so</i>.
He rubbed his bleary, sleep-crusted eyes and groaned out loud. She was fond of a blend of chicory and other herbs that tasted odd to him. Nevertheless, he used to get up before her and set it to steep while she slept because it took longer than his tea. Aizawa rose and filled a cup with the mix, then set it near the fire. The smell - something he'd routinely complained about when she was here -- infused the small home, and he sat on the edge of the bed and wept again.
He wondered where she was, if she were safe, and warm. Elly might think he didn't care, but he did, and that was why her omission had hurt so much. All humans were taught that the Good People - and fairy beasts -- were out to cause mischief at the very least and death at the worst.
It hurt because he couldn't believe a fae would fall in love with a human. It wasn't possible... and even if it was, why him? No, it had to have been a ruse.
"My light," he croaked out sadly in a hoarse voice filled with pain.
He had to remember; <i>light brought him pain</i> and <i>salvation.</i>
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