A Fragile Enchantment

“He tasted like smoke, and he smelled like rain and damp wool. and she might very well go mad from how good he made her fel She foared in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion.
‘Is this a dream'
‘I don't know,' he said huskily, his eyes aglow. ‘Let me kiss you until dawn, and I suppose we'll find out.'
Perhaps tomorrow, reality would crash down around her. Bur here, right now, with the patter of the rain and the whisper of the fire around them, she couldn't find it in herself to worry, to regret a single self-indulgent moment at all.”

...I'm dead.