Stone Circle No place like home

In this awkward hug, Day is this little girl. But with one arm.

Day closed his eyes, the sound of her voice punching through him like a bullet. It was a hallucination. They'd never talked to him before (they'd never been anything more than flickers on the edge of his vision, before), but there was no way this was anything but a fantasy. My Day, she'd said, like she knew he'd been waiting on those words for a very long time. But of course she did. This wasn't real.

But she was still there when he opened his eyes, shivering in the cold even as she sat up and faced him, beautiful as ever -

A pained, wordless moan came choking out of his mouth. He didn't remember moving, but suddenly he was right next to her, one leg holding her to him as her tucked his throat against the side of her neck, breathed ragged breathed down her spine. She smelled like she always did, but foreign, too. A restless urge awoke in the male - he needed to erase all that, like getting rid of those strange smells might turn back time and keep her from leaving in the first place.

He knew he should say something, that he should call for Steady and a healer - but he couldn't. No words were going to make it past the tightness in his throat anytime soon. And he wanted her all to himself, for just a few seconds before reality set back in. Just in case she was leaving again, or she hated him, or she was just a figment of his imagination. He sat there and he held on, and he breathed in her scent.