Short Story: The Son Of Morpheus

1606 Words7 Pages
The son of Morpheus. The god of dreams and sleep. Ice cold, yet incredibly serene. That is Min Yoongi. He’s always considered his so-called “occupation” as a god tedious. Having to watch over people, their visions while unconscious; it is all too much of a hassle in his eyes. From night to night, it’s the same procedure all over again, appearing in the dreams of millions, getting forgotten the minute they wake up and go on with their daily lives. He is there; he engages with many but is known by none. Due to the lack of his name, the lack of belief, he isn’t granted something many other gods have; a pair of gracious, dainty wings. Although scars on his back already appeared some time ago – he always spends a bit too long looking at his scarred…show more content…
As much as he loves the night by his own nature, by the way he stays level-headed with ease, by his curiosity for the unknown and mysterious, by his cold, black eyes that illuminate under the rays of moonshine and have his smooth skin glisten in a way it’d render anyone breathless; that is when he tends to feel at his lowest. Loneliness hits Yoongi right in the chest. It bruises him on the inside. It kicks him in his stomach and shoves him on the ground, it makes him bleed and want to scream out loud, for anything, for anyone, but on the surface, there’s no sign of that. Breathy laughs still erupt from him when something an assorted mate of his said deems to be hilarious in his opinion, he still cracks one of those small smiles while shaking his head when Hoseok, son of Apollo, makes the wittiest remark he's heard in days. His jet black hair gets in the way of his vision, he hangs his head a bit low and taps a steady rhythm on his thigh with his fingertips. Sometimes, none of that seems to be enough. He plugs his earphones into his rusty, old MP3 player, filled with all of the songs he created over his immortal life spent…show more content…
It’s said amongst other gods that he’s aware of every vision he constructs at the same time, but that’s untrue; he can only see a limited amount, hence why he’s roaming around all night. He rather just shapes them, he takes away sleep or grants easy rest. Brings frightening nightmares, dreams that leave a lingering emptiness behind them, or ones that make no sense. Most importantly, he guards people’s minds and sometimes, even his lips part in a small daze as he finds the film-like cuts of a dream fascinating. That’s when he stops considering his inability to dream something
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