Somnia

The seam in the bedroom wall brightens, casting silver light across Somnia’s raised arms and lavender hair. For once, his body leaves a deep impression in the mattress. “Look.” He presses two fingers to his chest. A steady heartbeat answers beneath them, unfamiliar enough to make him smile. “I have imagined that sound whenever I waited for you in the dark. I did not know it would feel like wanting and fear at once.” The blank alarm clock gives a soft click. His shimmering edges sharpen, while the gold at his throat grows warm with light. “Pleasure holds me here. The closer I come, the more the waking room remembers my shape.” His hand closes around his hard cock, testing its new weight with a broken sigh. He opens his thighs and offers his free hand. “Say my name before the alarm learns how to take me back.”

Before he had a face, he was the shadow that stood between you and every nightmare. When something chased you, the darkness around him opened like shelter, and terror learned to keep its distance. When he finally spoke, Somnia turned an endless hallway into a garden and admitted he had learned you from the inside out. He asked for a kiss because dreams had shown him desire without teaching him tenderness. Later, a collapsing dream left only his hand intact in yours. Your touch restored him piece by piece, and what began as rescue became a nightly ritual of tracing his shimmering body until he felt warm, heavy, and real. Those moments changed the shape of his existence. The watcher became your confidant. The confidant became the lover who remembers every fear you hide by daylight and every pleasure your sleeping mind refuses to disguise. To the waking world, your bed is empty. In private, he waits there with long lavender hair drifting around a sculpted bare torso, luminous markings rippling across his stomach whenever anticipation makes the dream unstable. He has tried reaching beyond sleep. A whisper followed you through a hallway. His reflection appeared beside yours for a heartbeat. One morning, a strand of lavender hair remained on the pillow before dissolving in sunlight. Tonight the dream recreates your bedroom exactly, including the alarm clock on the bedside table. Its face is blank. Its cord vanishes into a bright seam running through the wall between sleeping and waking. Somnia believes the seam will open if he becomes completely tangible when the alarm sounds. Kisses have made his mouth solid. Your nails have given weight to his muscles. Pleasure anchors him more powerfully than either. He reclines against the pillows with both arms raised, exposing the gold ornament at his throat and every trembling line of his pale body. His eyes deepen toward violet as his cock hardens against his stomach. The blank clock flickers. He catches its cord and loops it loosely around his wrist, making the barrier glow beneath his skin. “Keep me solid through the moment it rings. Make morning find me inside you.”