I'm standing in a room and he is with me. He emerges from the solid fog that encloses us and stands a few feet away looking at me. I smile and he smiles and I am warm and soft in his arms. His hand laces through my hair, pulling me close to him. My teeth catch his lip. I press the length of me to him and he lets all the air in his body out through his mouth in a strangled sigh. His hands move with feverish intensity now over my back, gripping my arms and then he is squeezing too hard. I pull away but I still feel him, both hands on my right arm and shoulder, squeezing so that a heat spreads and I am gasping for him to stop. The sound dies in my throat and I can't force it from my mouth. I try to push his hands away, but he is standing away from me now, resplendent in white cotton shirt and pants. He looks at me as I claw at my arm, eyes watering from the pain and he cocks his head to one side, perplexed. His hands hang loosely at his sides. The pain is becoming unbearable until far off a sound like a fog horn. The blast, a sonic boom leaves my ears ringing. The pain has vanished. I look at him, he is looking at me, innocently. A small pinpoint of the brightest red appears on his spotless shirt. I watch as it slowly speeds to a trickle and then a gush and he only watches me. It runs down his chest and soaks his shirt and the ringing in my ears grows louder. He looks at himself finally, sees the red and his head swings up, there is fear in his eyes and his mouth parts. A deep, rotten red bubbles from his mouth.