In a house upon the sea

Brilliant light. Brief, shining.

Blues of all shades. Crisp, cool, and clean.

Air, pregnant with moisture and memory.

Outside lightning flashed bright enough that from behind closed lids Remi’s pupils dilated. And as the thunder raucously followed, the alchemist was suddenly pulled from sleep; disoriented, bare-chested, and awash in pale blue light. Glancing to his right he could see window left open, a soft white curtain billowing against the force of the gale outside. He could smell the ocean and was immediately comforted. To his left he saw the remainder of a bed in a relatively small room, and oh—

—his heart skipped a beat. On top of his left arm there was a mop of red hair partially obscuring a familiar freckled face still asleep. In a silent gasp, Remi glanced quickly around the room, spying the familiar dresser, the closet, the steepled roof and the old and warped floorboards. It was ‘cozy’ if you were being generous, or ‘cramped’ if you weren’t.

And it was theirs. The familiarity of it all sank heavily on Remi’s shoulders which in turn slouched as he sighed with relief. He wasn’t quite sure what he thought … but something had seemed so…off.

I forgot what it was like, to think I found you finally
What if you were the one for me? I hope you weren't the one for me