GRETA:
His hands are on me. His fingers are in my hair. He is caressing me and palming my breasts while kissing me. He has me up against the wall, his breath heavy, his woodsy cologne delightfully assaulting my senses.
I am yet to understand what is going on right now. In fact, I believe that this is a dream. A dream I shouldn't even be having as it is nothing but inappropriate.
I try to open my eyes, to wake up from this dream but it is impossible. This dream feels too real to be one.
"Klaus?" I mutter underneath his lips, trying to make sense of what reality I am in. "Klaus! What the hell are you doing?"
He finally pulls away from me, blinking startlingly as he rakes his fingers through his hair. I can see the intensity in his eyes, I can feel it in his breath, see it in the heavy r
