Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne

Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne
Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkne

Sleep becomes like death over the yearsAt first, it began like all of Erik’s dreams- in darkness. And like all the dreams Erik had grown used to and nearly forgotten since they parted, the darkness disappeared with Charles’ appearance. Understandably angry, but solid, skin and muscle warm and alive and walking and with him. Erik was used to pain.The nightmare began with the sound of pencil on paper while blood trickled down his neck and a lucid memory that Charles had always used a pen, the metal nib an intimate reminder of companionship and trust. Consequently, it couldn’t be Charles who held Erik immobile, who wrote and tested while Erik gave all he was, all he would become-And still, Erik wished for the dream. He would bear even the shadow of the man he loved than to have Charles absent from his thoughts. -- source link


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