Torn Fragility

If you are lost in your way
Deep in an awesome story
Don't be in doubt and stray
Cling to your lonesome folly~Stray Child //hack.sign

I was back in that room that wasn’t really mine. I was dressed in the pyjamas I had gone to bed in and feeling oddly self-conscious in this house that wasn’t what it seemed I pulled open one of the closets, randomly took a dress off of its hanger and climbed into it.

It fitted me perfectly. Of course.

It was an Elizabethan style, corset and everything, with a wide flaring skirt and a blush worthy low cut bodice. I left my hair loose, past caring now, just happy not to be in my previous more embarrassing garments.

The room was lit by candles in sconces along the wall and when I left it the room went dark and the hallway in front of me lit up instantly. I would’ve found it pretty if I hadn’t been so scared. What was my purpose here anyway? What exactly was my role in this game?

My feet moved of their own volition down the same route I had taken last time. And I found myself standing once again on the threshold of a large living room, transformed into a dining room, luxuriantly decorated, everything warm, inviting, welcoming but with a hard edge barely hidden away.

My host appeared at my shoulder and I gasped audibly. He smiled at my discomfort and I saw his façade waver revealing the monster underneath silk like layers of glittering magic. I blinked and the illusion was gone. I had no idea how I had seen and known what I had but it gave me a feeling of comfort that I wasn’t completely alone in my ignorance.

He offered me his arm and I swept past him, my heart beating loudly in fear of what he might do now.

But he only pulled out my chair and I took my seat as gracefully as a shy awkward girl of nineteen could. And then he sat down across from me and gave a feral grin despite his overly handsome features.

He’s definitely not Max, he scarcely even resembles him.

And then the not Max said, “Bon appetite.”

And I saw the charm lying over the food like oil upon water, although I have no idea how. I remembered the books I had read about fey entrapments, although I didn’t know if this was Faery, and how most mortals fell prey to the food and how even one bite would keep them trapped for ever. But none of these helped convince me that the food didn’t smell absolutely wonderful. I chastised myself. It was only a dream.

“Not eating?” he growled, dissatisfaction just beneath the surface of his voice.

I grimaced and bit my lip shaking my head.

His eyes danced and he licked his lips. “You’re not in a state to decline little rose. I am your host and hospitality demands it.”

“I do not consider this hospitality,” I murmured a bit surprised not to feel shackles around my feet. “You are the one invading my private domain. My dreams are not to be your playground.”

He laughed and I blushed feeling I had said something stupid and ignorant.

“Quite right,” he said beginning to eat the food himself. “I can see what Talia meant, you’re almost a presence to be reckoned with.”

My interest was piqued. Could this be…? “Talia?”

He ignored me and idly poked at whatever was on his plate. “Although this is not a dream. You can get hurt here; you can die here as we are in fact not wholly in your dreams. This is half real.”

“Die?” I blanched and gripped the table’s edge.

“Indeed,” he chuckled cruelly. “You are half in your own domain and half in mine.”

“Welcome to my home,” he said raising his glass in a mock salute.