The ocean breathes beside him; ebbing and rising in tune with his own rhythmic in and out. Lazy, cool waves spill onto the shore and nip at his hooves as a gentle breeze rustles the palm above him. It’s neither hot nor cold, the heat of the scarlet sun offset by a cool lavender sky—it makes for perfect, warm evening air. At his side is his mate, and in his heart, love; all is right within the world.
He can feel Aion nose at his back and hear a seagull squawking in the distance. Eros can’t see the setting sun, but its fading warmth slowly slips from him and he knows it’s nearing dusk. Distantly, he can hear his mate mumble his name.
But he isn’t at the beach—the seagull is a blue jay chirping from their windowsill at the Capitol, and the sloshing ocean is the sound of the river outside. In fact, it isn’t evening at all. Instead, the sun had just begun to rise; golden morning light streams into their room and glimmers as it passes through Aion’s wings. Eros shivers at the touch of his mate’s newly-acquired feathers against his flank.
What his dream hadn’t fabricated is Aion. Aion, who is still at his side, who nuzzles close up against him. Eros returns his kisses with fervor; his heart is still full of love. And all is still right with the world, for what matters is not where they are, but simply that they are together.
@aion
