Roman hadn't had dreams like these since his shared nightmares with Peter, he was haunted by those dreams. But these, the ones he was having now, they were different. There was no threat behind them, but he knew they were real. They were almost too real to be dreams, as though he could see a glimpse into the future. Roman just didn't know who's future he was seeing.

They say any face you see in dreams, you've seen before in real life. But Roman's sure he'd never have forgotten your face if he'd seen you in person. You lived in his head, almost slept in his bed through his dreams. He felt like he knew you, but Roman didn't even know your name. He saw you every night, but didn't even know if you existed. He'd spent months trying to track you down, but how can you find someone you're not sure is real?

He couldn't work out why he was so fascinated with you, with the idea of you. You were a stupid figment of his imagination, you had to be. Yet he's hired a private investigator to try and find you. Every place he went to, Roman's searching every corner in the hopes of finding you. He's not even sure what he'd do if he did see you. Maybe he just wanted to know he wasn't crazy, wasn't dreaming of some imaginary person every night.

Back under the red lights of his favourite bar, cigarette lit as his hand fiddles with his third glass of whiskey of the night. The smoke blown from his lips, as he feels the presence of someone stood next to where he sits on the bar. Roman nearly chokes at the sight, the girl from his dreams, you, stood next to him. You were real, he'd been dreaming of something real for months, and suddenly you were stood next to him like it was completely normal. No longer just the woman in his head, but a person he could reach out and touch.

"You're you." Roman states, as though you should know exactly what he means. Under the assumption you'll know exactly who he is, deciding you must have been dreaming of him the way he has you. "You're the girl from my dreams."