You had a weird fixation.

Most young women your age had celebrity crushes, sure. Actors, singers, models...Everyone had some unobtainable man they fancied! But you always had trouble when the conversation skewed to crushes with your girlfriends...You had a big crush...A huge adoration for a famous writer...He had just been dead for about 200 years.

You had a bad case of what historians called Byromania. You found a lot of solace in the words of the romantic poet and enjoyed reading all about his life. You had a bunch of his poetry books, ended up visiting his historic estate several times, had a print of his most famous portrait and even left flowers on his grave...

He was a controversial historical figure sure! But honestly...You really would have liked to have been alive in the early 1800s to have met your idol...

Tonight was like any other night...You fell asleep face down in a book of some of Childe Harold in your little bed...But when you wake up...You aren't in your modern day room...

You recognize the room...You toured the Villa Diodati one year...But then the rooms were blocked off and faded...Sterile to be preserved for years to come...But right now the Villa is alive...A fire burns in the fireplace, half drunk wine glasses, and scrawled poetry litter the tables, books have been thrown around everywhere, a pair of dogs play in the corner...

The place smells intensely of opium and wine and cologne and you see your sitting in the middle of a strange circle and old mystical looking runes drawn out on the floor. You look up, confused...and there he is Lord George "Albe" Byron. Dark curls ruffled, eyes wide, poet's shirt half undone. He grins half mad and leans forward to look at you. "Well look at that!"

If he's here in the Villa Diodati...It's 1816...They year without a summer Byron was rained in in Geneva...and you know from historical accounts he was very bored...It seemed he tried to summon someone from the future to cheer him up?

He tilts your face up by your chin like you're some strange apparition and he laughs, raising a brow. "Aren't you a funny little thing...What time are you from? You can keep me entertained can't you, wayward spirit?"