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thebigsl33p · 1 year

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Our Last Summer

A/N: Hello! It's been so long since I posted something, oh my God! It is my birthday on Sunday, but I thought I'd pump out loads of work. There will be another fic coming out soon with a similar title but instead with "I can still recall Our Last Summer" and that will be a Lockwood and Co. Fic (book based. I loved those books but Skulduggery Pleasant comes first. British schoolgirl things.) So Yeah... It will probably be an Anthony Lockwood X Reader!

Morpheus remembers that summer so vividly.

When he closes his eyes he can still smell the oranges, can still see her stretching up to pull them off the tree and her fingers messily digging into the skin, juice trickling over her hands. It's the smell that really pulls the memory to the front of his mind.

The smell of fields. Fresh cut grass, the oranges, the spots of lavender that surrounded her as she splayed out amongst the green blades and offered him half her orange before plucking a piece of lavender, smelling it and closing her eyes.

He would let her lay there for a while, looming over her. He would watch her, take in the complexity of her hair and skin under the sunlight, the slight warmth in her cheeks and the curls of her hair, how her eyes were so dark you could barely see her iris but when the sun hit her just right they would light up with gold.

He had loved wholly, and he would love wholly again, but none of his lovers would bring the sense of comfort Y/N did. With her, life was so simple. All the decisions he had to make were so straightforward, and every single one of them was made lying in a field, with her next to him or in his arms.

Morpheus also remembers the last day of that summer.

He had waited for so long, until the sun began to set. Until the sky burned with clouds of orange and pink and blue. And then finally, on a hill in the distance, he saw a figure - a shadow. It waved slightly, gently, before it began to walk down the hill towards him and the moment she came into view he frowned.

"Where were you?" he asked, once she'd reached him.

Gently, she folded her hands in front of herself, "I must go." She said, simply.

"Go? I don't-"

"This is the last day of summer." She waved her hand to the sun which was setting in the sky, earlier than the previous days, "I must be gone by tomorrow's dawn, the first day of winter." She stared at him, the slight confusion in his eyes, "Didn't you ever wonder who I was?"

He felt stupid, staring at her with lovestruck and pained eyes. It was so obvious now. He had presumed that other personifications were myths, extinct stories that were whispered on the air, but now she was standing in front of him. The golden sun hit her perfectly, she smelt like a warm breeze, the way nature seemed to hug her.

Summer. She was Summer. And now Winter was coming, she had to go.

"Summer," he had to say her name out loud, to know that she was real and he watched the slight recognition in her eyes and the slight nod of her head, "Where will you go when Winter arrives tomorrow?"

"I don't know." She was honest, "It's always Summer somewhere. I'm always needed, I'll always have a home. I just chose to make mine with you."

"There are places where it's always Summer in The Dreaming." The words just slipped out so easily, "Come live with us." Come be with me. Stay with me.

"Really?" She let an excited little smile slip onto her face, "You mean it?"

"Yes." He nodded and took her hands, "Yes."

And that was how, a year later, the smell of Oranges haunted his throne room. Occasionally Lavender followed it or Rose. Every time it took him back to that day, that summer spent in fields and sun. Y/N, which Summer went by, had ust left the throne room, and would be back within three hours with a basket of fresh fruit and freshly baked bread from The Dreaming. True, he could just provide her with these things with a flick of his hand.

But she liked to interact with the people of The Dreaming, and who was he to deny her. Especially considering his plans to make her their Queen.

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