George Villiers

He wakes up slowly, in the comfortable bed and, for a moment, he doesn't know where he is. It isn't his childhood bed, for certain. It's too soft, the covers too comfortable and, more than that, someone's in it with him. At first, he thinks it must be John or Kit but, when he lifts his head, he sees tumbled dark curls and pale skin, the face turned away from him. He sits up suddenly, his hair slipping into his eyes, heart thumping in his chest.

"What the fuck is happening?" he asks, his voice trembling.
It is the strangest, most real dream.