There we were, just standing there as though trapped in time. I had called out to him apparently, for he seemed to be waiting for what I had to say. An eerie white mist had settled in the air, cloaking our legs. I couldn’t see anything save for the white hood he was wearing.
White. White was purity, life. Did this mean something? I couldn’t reply, and so I stood there drinking him in. I stared through the mist, trying to see him clearly. He wore the white hood up so that it framed his sun kissed face. His brown eyes squinted at me, as though wishing to see the unseen. I wanted to get out of this dreamland I was in.

His mouth. Oh his mouth.

His lips were pressed together in a grim line, and guilt wormed its way through my heart. But what was I guilty about?

“I…” I started, but looking into his eyes my voice trailed off. I’m sorry? Were those even the right words? My mind had dragged me into this dream, but I couldn’t even grasp what was going on. I drew in a deep breath and ventured towards him, counting the steps. After an eternity I finally stood in front of him. Like a victim in front of a judge. I risked a glance at his face, and mentally cringed at the hard mask that looked back at me. I started again.

“I don’t even know what to say.” I told him. Truthfully, I didn’t. I didn’t even know what was going on.

The mask cracked.

The white figure before me let out a soft, bitter laugh. I began to feel a little uneasy about this whole dream.

“You don’t even know what to say,” he repeated, and I shook my head, mute. What could I say? I was stuck in the subconscious of my own mind without a clue. Before I could reply he continued.

“How about, ‘I’m sorry for hurting you, for betraying you?’” he shouted at me, and I looked down at the mist engulfing my feet. What I wouldn’t give for my body to physically wake up right about now. I opened my mouth to apologize, but he continued on his rant.

“Why did you do it? Why are you putting me through this?” he cried, and I leaned back.

The mask cracked further.

“I wouldn’t even dream of putting you through what you’re putting me through now!” his voice sounded strangled, as if he were trying not to cry. I looked up and saw that his face was contorted into an agonized mask. No, this wasn’t right. I couldn’t have done anything that would make him cry.
Cry.
Yes, there they were. Little droplets were forming in the corners of his eyes and threatening to leak over. I felt my heart rip a little inside. What had I done? I wanted to say something… anything to make him feel better. I raked a hand through my hair before continuing.

“I’m sorry.” I told him, but he didn’t reply. Instead he shook his head and turned away from me. I didn’t even know what I was doing, but I grabbed his face in my hands.

My hands.

They had traveled too fast to be normal speed. Then again I wasn’t in the real world. I was in a dream world of my own creation. Yet they didn’t look the same. Against his dark skin my hands were like two glowing lights in the dark. Again, did this mean something? My hands would be white, which would mean purity, only now I was the enemy. On the contrary his skin was dark, and so that would mean he is evil, but it was I who had hurt him. Nothing seemed to make sense, and so I went with my instinct. I leaned towards him on my tiptoes so that we were at eye level. I wanted him to see, in my eyes, that I didn’t mean to hurt him. My words caught in my throat.

His eyes were too much.

The increasing tears only magnified his orbs of brown liquid. I felt my own eyes stinging. Those brown orbs showed me my betrayal, my loss of his trust. I still didn’t know what I had done to him, but just by the look in his eyes, it was something horrible. One of his tears escaped from the dam and fell down his cheek. Subconsciously, I brushed it away with my finger and inhaled deeply, clearing my head. This was my dream, and I was going to fix what had happened here.

“Oh please don’t cry.” My voice trembled slightly, and I cleared my throat, pushing through.
“No, don’t cry. I am truly sorry. I never wanted anything to hurt you.” This wasn’t me speaking, but my dream mind. In real life I barely even knew this man. He nodded at this and grabbed my wrists, unclasping my hands from his face. Here it was. Now I was going to get it. He was going to say this is it, and there’s no more, walk out of my life forever, and leave me to deal with my own consequences.
Alone.
However, he surprised me. He looked at me with his eyes that could stop anything in its tracks. They softened, and they weren’t filled with anger or despair, but something different. Was he forgiving me? How could he have forgiven me so quickly? He lowered his head and pressed it gently against my own.
Then I woke up.