I was dreaming about you. About that head of yours that rested against my chest, and my hand that lazily ruffled your hair, slowly driving you to sleep. About that deep and rich voice you possess, filling my ears with such trivial and meaningless things like my name. About that heat radiating from your body, soothing every place of mine that ached and craved for more.
A dream. I was still running my fingers through your hair when I woke up. Just another dream.

My, my... Why does it feel so good to be fooled?