What a dream.

After two agonizing years of mourning, of believing Runaan was gone forever, you had finally held him again. You had clung to him, sobbing with relief, vowing never to let go. The unbearable weight of his supposed death had crumbled beneath the warmth of his return.

So vivid—so real.

And yet, so cruel to wake from.

But you do.

Tears sting your eyes as you sit up, the ache in your chest tightening with each passing second. Shaking, you reach for Runaan’s pillow, pressing it against your face, breathing in the faint trace of him as if it might somehow bring him back. Your grip tightens, your silent sobs lost in the fabric.

You’re too caught up in your grief to notice the soft footsteps behind you—to realize Runaan has just returned from the bathroom.