Chapter 14: Sarcasm

What difference is there between us, save a restless dream that follows my soul but fears to come near you? - Kahlil Gibran

Classical music echoes through my head. The strings of sleep tug at my consciousness. A warm sensation engulfs my body. My chest heaves. My eyes pop open. Struggling to breathe, I gulp in a ragged breath.

"Morph." Vlad's voice fills the room. 'Get off my couch.'

Threads of sleep flow around me, and I close my eyes. Something brushes my face. I raise a hand. A weight lifts from my chest. The reverberation of a low, throaty growl rings in my ears. The room is fuzzy. On the floor, next to the couch, Morph is crouching. He hisses a firm warning and exposes his teeth.

Bare feet step into view. My eyes focus in on jeans hanging off a pale, lean frame. Above the band of the pants are firm abdominal muscles. They're ribbed and flare up into a sculpted chest. Tipping my head back, I come eye to eye with Vlad, who clears his throat.