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Summary
Mydei dreams of drowning.
The Sea of Souls isn’t like the ocean. The water there isn’t water; it’s everything else, thick in his lungs, all-consuming. Mydei claws at his neck. Sucks in breath after breath, only to never catch it. It isn’t wet because this isn’t a true sea, it’s a dry sort of drowning that leaves him gasping for relief. He’s full, so full; of souls, of pain and anguish, of terror, of—
Mydei jerks awake to a different sort of fullness.
Mydei knows the drill--cold morning, lazing in bed, waking up with a dick in him.
Series
- Part 3 of philia