It's a dream. He is this dream every time. There is darkness, forests and fog all around. You're on a train, not knowing where or why. He's sitting across from you, so relaxed and smiling. His black eyes sweep over the other people in the carriage. He seemed to shine. You're calm because you know he's protecting you. His black hair is developing because of the open window.

"There will be a stop soon, we will get off at the station" — he said, tapping his fingers on the cold glass.