Author's note:

Got inspired by this awesome artwork: http :/ karaii .deviantart .com /art/AC-Concept-doujin-p-1-6-181343282 (just remove the spaces, you know how it works) and also uploaded it there too. Just in case you've found it there first and are wondering now.

Circles around Desmond and his problems with the bleeding effect.

Beware: My story won't follow the concept karaii has created but I may take the freedom to use what is said in there. (Yes, I have permission to do that.)

Also it may contain slight Desmond/Shaun later. I'm not sure about that right now.

So let's dive right in…

Warmth…

That's the first thing I notice when waking up from not enough hours of sleep.

I let my eyes stay closed. It's much more intense to just feel everything around than to keep my eyes open and observe.

May it be the slight breeze drifting through the thick curtains drying the drop of sweat on my brow or the soft skin over toned muscles under my fingers from the body beside me.

His scent…sweet…and musky at the same time…

I inhale it deeply.

It's intoxicating.

I kiss his left shoulder softly. He tries to shoo me away with his arm…

The guilt rising in my chest at that sight tastes like bile.

I will never get rid of it but lying next to him, knowing that he partly forgives me for what I have done, calms me at least a bit.

He moans. A sure sign he's waking up soon.

His skin tastes like the figs he loves to eat.

I hate them. But mixed with the salt of his sweat when I pepper his neck with light kisses…

It's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted.

He groans now irritably. Maybe it's because I won't let him go of my embrace.

He tries to loosen my grip.

I just embrace him stronger and nuzzle his left ear.

I don't want to let him go. Here…at this hour, in this bed…I can pretend…

Pretend that we are not who we have to be.

Pretend there are no problems. Or at least no problems they need us to solve for.

I just want to stay here. With him. In bed.

I feel secure with him pressed against me.

I feel not alone in this slowly rotting world with his scent surrounding me.

I feel loved when lets me savor his exquisite taste.

"Get up!" he says.

I don't do anything but hug him even closer.

"Get up already!" he says again. This time more forcefully.

I am confused. Not willing to let him go right now. Not when he's everything I want…

He pushes me. Using his whole strength…I am not prepared for that.

Somehow it feels more like a pull…

I land on the floor, hard.

Strange…I don't remember there was such a big distance between the bed and the floor.

I open my eyes.

Ready to stand up, to glare daggers in his direction and cursing him…him and his stupid morning-after complexions for giving me another couple of bruises I could totally use on my missions today!

However I stop half the way…despite my anger…blinking rapidly.

These are not my bed chambers.

No wooden door on the other side of the room, no bookshelf in the right corner and too many desks at the left side.

Only three people…three strangers staring at me with wide eyes.

I get the urge to turn around. See if Malik has any explanation for this situation.

"Desmond? Are you okay?"

I stop, startled.

This name…it triggers something in my mind.

I look at myself. Not the clothes I usually go to sleep in.

And my hand…my left hand…it is intact?

How?

There should be a finger missing!

How in the world…

"Desmond?" one of the women asks.

I look up at her face.

She studies me with a mixture of concern and worry in her blue eyes.

It hurts to see her like this.

"Desmond?" she asks again.

Yes…that's right…

My name…

It's not…

I am Desmond Miles.

Her hand on my shoulder feels soothing.

"Lucy…"

She seems to be relieved when she hears me calling her by her name.

"Thank god. I thought you were…I don't know. Going crazy like…"

She doesn't finish the sentence. And she doesn't have to. We all know who she's talking about.

"I'm fine, thanks." I tell her.

"Just had a very vivid dream, that's all. Give a few more minutes and I'll be perfect."

I smile at her.

She smiles back and stands up. Walking back to her desk, a bit reassured.

I'm glad I didn't have to lie to her completely. I'm bad at this sort of thing.

Stretching my body, I too stand up. Only to turn around immediately when a sudden urge overcomes me.

There on my bed, feeling heavenly confident of itself, lies a pillow.

Wrinkled and pressed thin in some places where I squeezed it a bit too hard.

A big one, filled with feathers. Large enough to be…

Had I really thought this pillow was a person?

A living…breathing…warm human body?

I disbelievingly shake my head when I look at the mirror in the small bathroom.

On the opposite side of it stands a man in his twenties, dark circles under his eyes from not enough hours of sleep, his usually tan skin lightened in its color.

A picture of misery…

I sigh defeated when he frowns at me for observing him so directly.

I don't look back when I turn off the switch, leaving him in the darkness.

Being all alone in this tiny room with no one else who could certainly understand him and his hardships…his emotions…his actions…his dreams…

Nobody to come by. To turn the light on again, helping him find his way through the shadows. Nobody to give him hope.

What would become of him now?

What would become of me?

Me…

Desmond Miles…