The eidolon dresses himself up each night to frequent my dreams. His liquid, black skin crawls down my cheek as his soulless eyes work to devour me whole. My lips quiver and stomach churns, but I can no longer discern whether it is fear or something more sinister that makes my throat clinch.
Each night the shade dresses himself as the finest men, every one with a tender smile and glowing laugh, but I can see him there beneath the skins. I hate him. I ache. Restlessly, I pace across the frozen marble, thrashing about my bed, fighting the urge to run. I mean, I fight the urge to stay. Nothing makes sense.
He crosses the room to meet me, to leave a secret in my ear. Even as he speaks, the words disappear. I can’t remember what he’s said. A whisper, a promise never kept. The more I cling to the words, the less air I take.
I awake, his eyes boring into me on yet another kindly face. I’m not fooled. He says our secret once again as we lay tangled on the bed: I love you. I run again from the promise never kept.