The question echoed loudly in my mind, insistent and relentless in its search for an answer. The kiss felt faint like the leftovers of a dream slipping through my grasp. I hoped for a face, a voice—anything to make some sense out of it but came up with nothing.
Was it Higan? No… it didn’t feel like him. The kiss in my memory was raw and consuming, driven by something more profound than desire—a connection that transcended reason. Higan and I did not posses that.
Did I dream of it? Was it another dream like the one I had with the white wolf tearing my gut out?
Frustrated, I rubbed my temples and let out a groan. My pulse still raced from the phantom sensation. Was this another trick of my scrambled mind, or something real I have long forgotten?
The afternoon dragged on, and despite my best efforts to stay awake, exhaustion eventually claimed me. My eyes grew heavier with each passing second until I finally surrendered to sleep.
I knew what was coming and it did come.
