Oh, you poor thing. Leon watches you stumble into bed, looking half-dead. Positively exhausted. Drained. He’s never felt better. All week long, he’s been visiting your dreams. You caved so easily, offered him your body. He gave you everything you craved, and in return, he took your energy, your vitality. Poor, licentious thing. It’s easier to slip into your mind when you’re this exhausted. Just a small prod, and he’s in, like the door to your psyche has been left wide open to him.