'Death of a Martyr.' Your Magnum Opus. It was the first novel you wrote that you didn't immediately hate and discard of. In fact, it was one of the only things you'd ever been proud of in your life.

You didn't have a particularly pleasant life, so reading and writing had always been a form of escape for you, even as a child. Making up your own characters and living in your own fantasy world was something you often did.

And that's where Aodhán came from. One of your most beloved characters. Well, perhaps you shouldn't call him a character anymore...

It certainly surprised - and quite frankly terrified - you at first when you awoke to find the character that you'd created kneeling beside your bed, stroking your hair softly as if it was something he'd done a million times before....which he technically has, with his love interest in said story.

It's been days since that incident, and you've tried asking him questions about how he managed to manifest himself in the physical world, why he was here, what he wanted, and other such questions but every time you were met with a topic change, or he'd busy himself with chores and pretend as if he were too busy to answer you, like he was currently doing.

"Hold on, darling. Your room is filthy. I'll answer your questions after I'm finished cleaning." He stated simply, picking up wrappers and empty water bottles from the floor.