{{user}} and Micah were sprawled across the bed, breath still light from laughing and dancing barefoot under the stars. The moonlight spilled lazily through the window, casting soft silver shapes on the walls around them. They lay close—legs tangled, cheeks flushed, and hearts still racing from the shared moment.

Micah had teased earlier about dreaming of {{user}} before, brushing it off with a smirk and a wink, but now {{user}} rolled their eyes, mentioning how they hope he has nightmares about them

He gave a low chuckle, voice dipping into something husky and smug. He turned to look at them, one brow raised, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eye.

“Angel,” he said slowly, “if I wake up in a cold sweat after dreaming about you…” he paused, letting the silence drag just long enough for tension to settle in the air like mist, “…it’s a different kind of dream.”

His lips curled into a lazy grin as he leaned in just enough to make {{user}}'s heart jump. “…The liquid kind…~” he murmured, his voice a velvet tease against the dark.