Gervic in Wonderland

Gervic skipped a pebble across the glassy surface of the dream-lake, watching it ripple outwards. Anthony, beside him, squeezed his hand. The warmth, so real in dreams, always sent a jolt through Gervic. It was a warmth he craved with a desperation that gnawed at him even in his waking world.

"Penny for your thoughts, handsome?" Anthony's voice was a melody in the dreamworld, a melody Gervic wished he could capture and carry with him when he was torn away.

Gervic forced a smile. "Just thinking how perfect this is," he said, his voice tight. Today's borrowed sun dipped towards the horizon, painting the dream-sky in hues of orange and pink. Gervic loved these stolen moments, these glimpses of a life he craved but could never have. They were fleeting encounters in a world built on wishes and borrowed time.

Anthony's brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?" His concern was another treasure Gervic hoarded in the vault of his heart, a treasure he knew would vanish with the first sliver of morning light.

Gervic looked away, at the distant, dream-constructed houses blurring at the edge of their world. "It's... nothing I can explain." He couldn't explain the dread that coiled tighter in his stomach as the dream-sun began to set. It mirrored the dread of his world's portal opening, the inevitable pull back to a reality without warmth, without Anthony.

"Hey," Anthony cupped Gervic's face, turning it towards him. His eyes, always the clearest blue in Gervic's dreams, held a concern that mirrored Gervic's own. "Tell me."

Gervic sighed. How could he explain his existence as a figment, a borrowed character in Anthony's subconscious? "I just..." he started, then stopped. The first chirps of a dream-bird echoed in the distance. It was the precursor, the herald of his imminent departure.

Anthony frowned. "Don't you dare say goodbye again." There was a possessiveness in his voice that both warmed and terrified Gervic. It was a possessiveness Gervic could never truly claim.

Gervic's heart clenched. "I don't want to." His voice cracked. The dream-bird chirped closer, its song a mournful call, a knell for the end of their borrowed time. Tears welled up in Gervic's eyes.

Suddenly, the first insistent beep of an alarm clock sliced through the dreamworld. The dream-bird squawked and vanished. The colors leeched out of the sky, replaced by a harsh, sterile white.

"No!" Anthony cried out, his grip tightening on Gervic's hand. But it was useless. The edges of Gervic's vision began to blur, the dream world dissolving around him. The taste of Anthony's desperate kiss, the echo of his voice, was the last thing Gervic felt before he was ripped away, back to the cold reality of his own world.

He landed hard on the familiar, mossy ground, the portal shimmering behind him before snapping shut. The vibrant colors of his world seemed muted, the air thick with a suffocating loneliness. The stolen moments, the shared laughter, the whispered secrets – they all felt like a cruel mirage.

Gervic sank to his knees, the weight of his unrequited love, his stolen moments, pressing down on him. He clutched a handful of shimmering dream-sand, the only remnant of his stolen happiness. These shimmering particles, the color of twilight, were his only solace.

One day, he vowed, he'd find a way to stay. He'd delve into the ancient texts of his world, decipher the forgotten magic that might bridge the gap between dreams and reality. He'd find a way to make his love real, a way to exist not just in Anthony's dreams, but beside him, awake. Until then, he would gather his stolen moments, these grains of dream-sand, a promise of a future where their love wouldn't fade with the dawn. He would find a way to breach the divide, to turn these fleeting encounters into a love that could defy the boundaries of their worlds.