He has fantasized this little while for eternity.
He had been stranded in the boundless desert.
Coursing through the dunes over and over. The mirage the mind creates in the view of being so hopeless, been through the illusion unnumbered of times.
God's will crushed him as late as he could feel the bones pulverized within his ragged splattered in scarlet torned flesh.
Heavens wishing to mercy the man presents a green oasis, granting a glimmer to life.
Wandering all over the depths of despair, Ishmael has eventually found his Utopia.
He hadn't realized the weight of longing her, not until she opened up a portal landing him to this otherworldly realm.
He stood by the door to Neva's apartment.
She had left him standing there all by himself.
He couldn't wrap his mind around her impressions of him being there.
Having the door wide open she walked back in conversing with someone unbeknownst to him.
He never intended to terrify her at that instant he out of nowhere rushes in—embracing her.
The device falls out her hand in a thud.
No, he doesn't care if he ignites fear in her.
He's purely moisting the parched throat—swilling water from his oasis.
The faint flame of the candle appeared so life deprived to the world. It was enough, the flicker was enough for him to carry on breathing.
The melting candle defied the looming darkness. The Illumination dim but sparks flew as he dreamed imagening where might the fates lead to.
He is the ruinous environment, the flaring taper his aspiration of her.
The moment shall one day come and it is here.
Her warmth cracking the transparent shards awning his heart.
He feels the pleasure of a burning summery firewood left still by an angel, all the while he has exhausted himself freezing shivering naked in a frosty mountain covered in snow.
Frozen before, now he bathes in the glowing warm spring sun in the green pasture laying next to her.
Neva gasps uncovering herself in the arms of the unfamiliar man.
Her fists against his chest, she harshly forces him away from her.
He feels not anything similar to how Rhett feels against her.
"Neva?" Red roots stretches his eyes as he confusedly reads her.
Wasting no second, Neva dashes towards her room, guarding herself inside the four walls.
He swallows the lump formed in his throat, being recklessly spurned.
She's his only one, his most beloved.
His heart howls in grieve.
He staggers towards her room—and softly knocks on the door.
"Neva have you, have you forgotten about me. I'm your Ishmael." He indicates, hoping to have her running to him, having been stumbled upon their memories.
"P-please go away. I think you may have the wrong person." Neva exclaims, her heart wavering. The dagger in the tight clutches of her hands.
"Is your name not Neva?" He knows, she's his Neva.
Although he isn't clear if he has gone deranged in delusion.
"I-It is, but I don't remember you." She lays out, drawing out the curtains and reveal him of his misunderstanding.
He goes quiet for a moment.
"Neva have you really—it can't be you promised me." He mutters his voice cracking.
Loud enough, Neva's sensitive ears perceives his words. She deeply frowns.
"You said we will aways be together."
"Don't you dare run away from me!" He growls banging on the door.
Neva gasps, frightened by his change of demeanor. Her cheeks wet by the stream of salty see through liquid down her orbs.
"I-I don't understand! I have never met you before," Her voice breaks, he terrifies her. She wishes nothing more than to have Rhett stand by her.
The loud noise of the door being overwhelmed reverbs in her ears.
He broke open the door.
Neva's eyes rounds, shaky orbs meeting the man harbouring a haunting demeanour looming on the door.
He takes slow, heavy strides towards her. To hunt her, for she's the reason of the injured predator.
She steps back, her breathing ragged, she gulps—pointing the dagger towards him.
"D–don't come closer," She pleads, her feet halted by the wall behind her back.
Linking their eyes he reaches her.
A stiffened Neva clenches her fingers on the weapon, but nothing, she can never hurt anyone.
"I will gladly die by your hands." Breathing heavily, he grabs the blade, bringing it to rip his chest.
Neva widens her eyes.
"If you don't kill me this instant," blood drips down the floor, he's abusing his own flesh.
"I vow to hover, much the same as a shadow.
I will follow you... anywhere, everywhere."
Taking aback Neva, Ishmael snatches the dagger and throws it away.
He easily shoves her over his shoulders. Neva widens her eyes, a shrill yelp escaping her lips.
His arms around her tight, he endeavours to take her away, as she screams and beats him, struggling o free herself from his caging grip.