Aria had always dreamed.
Not the kind you forget the moment you open your eyes, slipping away like mist under sunlight. Her dreams lingered. They clung to her thoughts throughout the day—small fragments, flashes of places she didn't recognize, voices she couldn't quite place. It had been like that for as long as she could remember.
But they had never felt like this before.
It started on a Tuesday night.
There was nothing special about that day—no strange events, no emotional breakdowns, nothing that would explain what came after. Aria had gone to school, come home, scrolled through her phone, and fallen asleep like she always did.
And then she was there.
At first, it was just darkness.
Not the kind that scares you—no shadows lurking, no sense of danger. Just a quiet, endless black, like standing in a room with the lights turned off. Aria didn't even realize she was dreaming at first. It felt too still, too calm.
Then she heard it.
A voice.
"You came."
Aria turned instinctively, even though she couldn't see anything. Her heart skipped, not out of fear, but confusion.
"Hello?" she called out.
Her voice didn't echo. It didn't sound distorted like voices usually did in dreams. It sounded… normal.
"I didn't think you would," the voice continued.
It was a boy's voice—soft, steady, and strangely familiar.
Aria frowned, taking a step forward into the darkness. "Who's there?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then—
A faint glow appeared.
It was subtle at first, like a distant light slowly getting closer. The darkness began to thin, revealing shapes—blurred outlines that gradually sharpened into something recognizable.
A park.
Aria blinked.
Streetlights flickered to life one by one, casting a dim, silver glow over empty paths and benches. The air felt cool against her skin. She could hear the faint rustle of leaves, the soft whisper of wind moving through trees.
It wasn't just a dream.
It felt like a place.
Her breath caught as she turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. The details were too precise—the texture of the ground beneath her shoes, the distant hum of something she couldn't quite identify. Even the air smelled real, like rain had passed through hours earlier.
"This isn't…" she murmured.
"A dream?" the voice finished.
Aria froze.
He was sitting on a bench a few feet away.
She hadn't noticed him before—like he'd simply appeared when she wasn't looking. He leaned back slightly, one arm resting along the back of the bench, watching her like he'd been there the whole time.
Like he'd been waiting.
Aria hesitated.
Every instinct told her this should feel wrong. Strange. Unnatural. But instead, there was something else—a quiet pull she couldn't explain.
"Do I know you?" she asked cautiously.
The boy tilted his head, considering the question. "No," he said after a moment. "I don't think so."
"That's not comforting."
A small smile touched his lips.
Aria stepped closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. He looked… normal. Completely normal. Dark hair, slightly messy, like he hadn't bothered fixing it. His expression was calm, almost amused, but there was something deeper behind it—something she couldn't quite read.
"Then how are you in my dream?" she pressed.
He shrugged lightly. "Maybe it's not your dream."
Aria let out a short laugh. "Okay, that's even less comforting."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't awkward, though. It felt… natural. Like they were both waiting for something, even if neither of them knew what.
Aria glanced around again, trying to make sense of it all. "I've never seen this place before."
"You will," he said.
She looked back at him sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he looked at her—really looked at her, like he was trying to memorize something. It made her chest feel tight in a way she didn't understand.
"You ask a lot of questions," he said finally.
"Because none of this makes sense."
"Does it have to?"
Aria opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Normally, she would've argued. She wasn't the type to just accept things without understanding them. But something about this—about him—made it hard to push.
"This is a dream," she said instead, more to herself than to him. "It has to be."
"Then wake up."
She blinked.
"What?"
"If it's just a dream," he said, his voice steady, "wake up."
Aria hesitated.
That was the thing about dreams—you didn't always control them. Sometimes you just… existed in them until they ended. Still, she squeezed her eyes shut, focusing.
Wake up.
Nothing happened.
She opened her eyes again.
The park was still there. The boy was still sitting on the bench, watching her.
Her stomach twisted slightly.
"That's weird," she admitted.
He didn't look surprised.
"Try again," he said.
Aria frowned but did as he said, closing her eyes once more. She focused harder this time, willing herself to wake up.
Her room. Her bed. Reality.
Still nothing.
When she opened her eyes again, something had changed.
The light above them flickered.
Just once—but it was enough.
Aria noticed it immediately. "Did you see that?"
He followed her gaze briefly, then nodded.
"That doesn't usually happen," he said quietly.
A chill ran down her spine.
"Usually?" she repeated.
He seemed to realize what he'd said and looked away.
"Wait," Aria said, stepping closer. "What do you mean 'usually'? How many times have you been here?"
He didn't answer.
"Hey—"
"You should go," he said suddenly.
Aria stopped.
"What?"
"Wake up," he added, his voice more serious now.
"That's not something I can just—"
"Try again."
There was something different in his tone this time. Urgent.
Aria hesitated, searching his face. "Why?"
He met her eyes, and for the first time, she saw it clearly.
Worry.
"Because next time," he said softly, "it might be harder."
Her chest tightened.
Before she could ask what he meant, the world around her shifted.
The wind picked up suddenly, stronger this time, sending leaves scattering across the ground. The streetlights flickered again—once, twice—
Then everything went dark.
Aria's eyes snapped open.
She sat up in bed, her breath coming faster than it should have been.
Her room.
It was still early morning—the faint light of dawn creeping through her window. Everything was exactly where it should be. Normal. Quiet.
Safe.
Aria pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
"It was just a dream," she whispered.
But even as she said it, she knew that wasn't true.
Not completely.
Because she could still feel it.
The cold air.
The sound of his voice.
And the way he had looked at her—like she wasn't a stranger at all.
Aria swallowed, glancing at the clock beside her bed.
6:12 AM.
Too early.
Too real.
She lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling.
For the first time in her life, Aria wasn't sure she wanted to go back to sleep.
But a small, quiet part of her—the part she didn't want to admit—was already wondering if he would be there again.