In this moment I am awake, stirring in a way that I hadn't thought possible. I close my eyes and dream a dream of running through northern woods, alive with senses and delight, prehistoric and yet somehow beyond history, existing and eternal.
And my lips brush the back of her neck. A soft kiss, gentle, almost not even there. It is a stolen moment, an island of time that exists only here, only now, that will fade into the fog and birdsong of the coming day.
In this moment I am awake, fangs tearing through flesh, tasting blood electric on my tongue, the way it is supposed to be, the way it has always been. Summer joy, the feel of moss under my feet, the taste of cool spring water.
She curls into me, relaxed and poised. It is a moment of what-if, a moment full of potential, a moment of eternity. It is the flavor of joy.