The dream always starts the same. It begins at the end. We were nowhere. The world was dark around us, but we didn’t notice. Cyrin was at my back, I facing away from him. His lips gently teased my neck, sending shutters of pleasure up my body. But that was the only thing about the encounter that was gentle. His hands roamed over my naked body, never settling to stimulate one part of me for long. He was an expert at the craft of pleasure-making, and in the dream, I was a partner to his pleasure, and just as skilled. He entered me, and I felt a release of a longing that had long gone unanswered. With each long thrust I saw a flash of what had come prior to this encounter. It was him and I, each manic in our bloodlust. We stood back to back in a field of demons. The sky was raining blood, and dark as pitch. The ground was already littered with corpses. We were standing on them because the ground could no longer be seen under the depth of our lust. A return to our passion, he satisfying me in ways that I didn’t know I wanted. Ways that were known perhaps, but not remembered. Back to the battefield, and both of us cut through demons like they had been created only to be destroyed there, by us. We danced along the battlefield, being covered in blood and gore. Our lovemaking was there, then, straight in the middle of the field of bodies. We stood, full of pleasure in the rain of blood. The violence ran hot in my veins. I tasted the blood in my mouth. I heard a voice in my head. I felt a touch on my shoulder and my eyes opened. I saw Cyrin in front of me. I had fallen asleep in the common area of the abyssal brothel. The dream wasn’t real, but the passion I had felt was. My heart beat much too quickly, parts of me burned too hot. And there he was in front of me. My lips still tasted the blood he drank. He drank it and then kissed me. He kissed me the way I wanted to be kissed, the way I’ve begged Avashniel to kiss me. His hands roamed my armor-clad body and I saw his pleasure, felt his frustration. I was desired. Now, hours later, I still tasted the blood on my lips. I still felt him between my thighs. Truth and falsehood were mixed. I wanted blood, I wanted sex, I wanted to kill demons.
In the dream, I felt no shame at wanting these things. Now, I do not want to sleep. Not out of fear, but out of knowing that I STILL WANTED THEM.