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Suddenly, the illusion - my wings gone from my back, my cropped hair, the gnawing in my stomach that has nothing to do with hunger - consumes me completely.
It’s that time I’m barely waking up, or maybe that I’m barely falling asleep. It’s dark so I can’t know for sure. The bed is warm, too warm, and hard and doesn’t smell the way it smells at home. (Home?)
My heart beats faster. I know Baz can hear it, and can smell the anxiety coming off of me.
“It’s alright,” he says in my ear. “I’m here. It’s not real, and you’re not alone.”
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Deep, intense, beautiful. Sexy and emotional, I cried.