A young man is staring into the camera. We can only see his face. His eyes are the purest blue, made more striking by a mask of black paint. His face is dirty, and a hand cradles his cheek.
Night after night, I dream of him. His eyes haunt me even when I’m awake. Who is he? I feel compelled to find him, but I’m not even sure that he is real.
Tags: BDSM, dark, dreamscape, incubus, interspecies, therapist
Warning: breath play
Word Count: 11,951
EVENT: Love is an Open Road