“Just follow the script,” Darith said, materializing beside him on the dream-meadow. His form flickered—an older man, then a younger woman, then back—because he’d been doing this so long he’d forgotten he was supposed to have a default. “You’re overthinking it. Dreams are running on feeling, not logic. She wants to be wanted. So want her.”
Darith studied him for a long moment. Then he reached out and flicked a petal off Leo’s shoulder—a last remnant of the tulips. introducing an apprentice incubus (m)
Leo sat down. And for the first time all night, he stopped trying to be an incubus. He just talked to her. About her book (she wasn’t actually reading it, she confessed, because she’d been thinking about whether her cat missed her while she was at work). About the coffee (too hot, always, but in a comforting way). About nothing, really. Small things. Human things. Dreams are running on feeling, not logic
She looked up.