At first, it was just a feeling.
Daniel would be lying in bed, half-asleep, his mind floating somewhere between dreams and wakefulness.
And he would feel it — a presence.
Warm, weightless but heavy all at once, curling around him like a fog.
The first night, he thought it was just his imagination.
He turned over under his blanket, pulling it up to his chin, trying to chase the strange sensation away. His body still ached faintly from the attack, but it was a distant throb now — like a bad memory.
But as he drifted closer to sleep, he felt something again: fingers ghosting across his cheek, tender and soft.
Daniel shivered. His heart skipped a beat.
In his dream, he opened his eyes — and Lucian was there, sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him with those piercing blue eyes.
He didn't speak.
He just smiled — a smile so faint, so full of sadness and longing that Daniel's breath caught.
Lucian leaned down slowly, and for one electric moment, Daniel thought he was going to bite him.
But instead...
Lucian pressed his lips to Daniel's forehead, lingering there, his cold hand cradling the side of Daniel's face.
Daniel sighed in his sleep, the touch soothing him, pulling him deeper into the dream.
When he woke the next morning, the memory clung to him like mist.
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The dreams grew stronger with each passing night.
At first, they were innocent — stolen touches, soft kisses, hands brushing along Daniel's bare arms and back.
But soon, the touches became bolder.
Daniel would dream of Lucian's hand sliding under his shirt, fingertips tracing the curve of his ribs, the dip of his spine.
Of Lucian pressing his forehead to Daniel's, whispering words he couldn't quite hear, couldn't quite understand.
The dreams left Daniel flushed and breathless, tangled in his sheets, his heart racing.
He wasn't scared.
If anything, he waited for them.
Craved them.
During the day, he found his mind wandering at the worst times — during lectures, during work-study hours — remembering the way Lucian's phantom touch had felt.
His friends noticed his distraction, but Daniel waved them off with tired smiles and half-truths.
How could he explain?
How could he admit that he was dreaming every night of a man — a vampire — who had saved him, a man he had met only once, a man who haunted his sleep?
And what unsettled Daniel most was how right it all felt.
He had never dated. Never even kissed anyone seriously. Sure, he knew he was attracted to men — that had never been a question for him — but he had always pushed that part of himself aside. School. Work. Life. There was always something more pressing.
Until now.
Now, he couldn't stop thinking about Lucian.
Not even when he tried.
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The dreams escalated after the first week.
One night, Daniel dreamt of Lucian straddling him, pinning him gently against the bed with the weight of his body.
Lucian's hands roamed down Daniel's sides, teasing his skin with featherlight touches.
His mouth pressed hot kisses along Daniel's neck, his collarbone, his chest.
A sigh escaped Daniel's lips, his body arching up to meet Lucian's without thinking.
Lucian's hand slid lower, brushing over Daniel's hips, his thighs, making him tremble.
Daniel gasped when Lucian's lips finally found his — and this time, it wasn't a chaste kiss.
It was deep, possessive, almost desperate.
Daniel clutched at Lucian's shoulders, pulling him closer, feeling the hard, cool strength of his body. His own arousal was hot and urgent, making him ache in ways he had never experienced before.
Somewhere deep in the dream, he knew this wasn't normal — wasn't just a fantasy spun from his mind.
It felt too real.
Too vivid.
Lucian's scent, the texture of his hair, the scrape of his fangs grazing Daniel's lower lip — it was all there.
Daniel woke with a strangled gasp, his sheets damp with sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He stared up at the dark ceiling, his body still trembling.
He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to catch his breath.
What's happening to me? he wondered, squeezing his eyes shut.
But the answer was already there, unspoken, undeniable.
Lucian had left a mark on him — not just a physical one.
Somehow, without meaning to, Lucian had carved his way under Daniel's skin, into his blood, into his very dreams.
And Daniel wasn't sure he wanted him to leave.
The next night, Daniel didn't even try to fight it.
He lay in bed with the lights off, staring at the ceiling, his body humming with anticipation.
And sure enough, as sleep tugged him under, Lucian came to him.
Lucian kissed him with a hunger that set Daniel's blood on fire. His hands explored Daniel's body boldly now, as if they had every right to — as if Daniel belonged to him.
And Daniel...he let him.
He arched into every touch, whispered Lucian's name into the darkness.
When Lucian finally pressed against him, hips grinding slow and deep between Daniel's legs, Daniel let out a broken moan.
He had never felt so wanted.So desired.
And when he woke in the early hours of the morning, his body aching with longing, a soft, wistful smile curved Daniel's lips.
He didn't know what tomorrow would bring.
But he knew one thing:
he didn't want these dreams to end.