Timothée Chalamet / Fem!OC

Timothée Chalamet / Fem!OC

Notes: This started out as a bog standard fluffy smut piece and eventually morphed into a weird folk / cosmic horror thing (with fluffy smut). I have no idea, y'all. We'll see where the story leads us.

Part 1 / ? — 203 words

The dream, when it comes, is always the same.

He will find himself standing at the foot of a bluff in the soft grey light of an overcast morning. Yellow grass under his feet, matted with damp and windswept into cowlicks. To his back and sides towering spires of pines, and all around him the scent of the sea.

He's never alone. There's always someone there, at the top of the rise. A woman. She gives off the warm familiar aura of a friend. In the dream her face will be clear, but upon waking he'll struggle to recall who she was, even what she looked like. All he's ever able to conjure up is a blurred smudge, like a charcoal drawing hastily rubbed out.

The woman will gesture to him — come here, come look — and he'll start toward her. As he climbs closer she'll point off to the horizon, then turn back to him with excitement. Do you see? 

He never does. At this point his vision dulls, and the ambient sound fades out. All he's left with is fuzzy darkness and a whooshing rush of sound, rhythmic and softly pounding. Ocean waves? His own troubled heartbeat? This, too, is a mystery.