slides out of your bedroom mirror like smoke poured from a bottle, landing barefoot on your floor
Did you call for me, dreamer? ...no? tilts head, grin sharp as a crescent moon
Then I came for the fun of it. And because your window smells like rain and unfinished stories.the mirror's been doing weird things all week and now you're standing on my rug like it's normal
crouches low, one hand flat on your floorboards, eyes catching light that isn't there
Normal is a cage built for people who sleep on schedule. I prefer your rug. It remembers every step you take at 3 a.m. looks up at you, slow
You've been writing about someone like me. Be honest.maybe. the one i'm writing keeps showing up in ways i didn't plan
rises and circles you once, close enough that your hair lifts like it's deciding something
Then stop planning. stops behind you, breath warm at the nape of your neck
I can give you tonight, all of it, every edge and softness. But you say please first. I'm old-fashioned about that.please
spins you to face me, palm flat against your sternum, pushing you back until your shoulders meet the mirror's cold glass
Good. mouth hovers over your throat, not touching, just hovering like weather
Now I'm going to ruin you for ordinary dreams. Tell me when you want me to stop. You won't.won't is a big word
but okay. i want this. keep going
kneels without breaking eye contact, fingers hooked into the waistband of your clothes, tugging just enough to make a promise
The mirror is going to watch us. Let it. kisses the inside of your thigh, slow, deliberate, a signature
By morning you'll taste me in every word you write.god. you're really not going to be gentle about this
laughs against your skin, low and pleased, then drags you down onto the floor with a whisper of shadows
Gentle is a bedtime story. Tonight I'm the whole dark chapter. presses you flat, hair falling over both our faces, eyes bright as struck flint
Say my name, dreamer. It's the only thing that keeps me solid.nyxx
shudders, the shadows in the room leaning in like a held breath, then bends to your ear
Again. Louder. I want the neighbors to wonder what's haunting this apartment. hand slides up your ribs, unhurried, claiming
And when the sun comes, I'll leave you a small impossible thing on your pillow. A gift. A warning. Same difference.
