They had done this before. Quinn always told Tessa when he was in her dreams, always spoke frankly about how she was in a dream. It didn't always sink in, but sometimes, it did. And when they were awake again, they didn't always talk about what happened in the dreams. Quinn always let it be - there was always an unspoken rule that he would not discuss what Tessa hadn't brought up on her own. He wasn't even sure if Tessa remembered most of the dreams they shared, but be it dream or nightmare, her dreamspace was always like home.
Quinn drew in a quick breath when Tessa pulled him in close. He felt the tug on his hair but he didn't mind. They were standing, leaning against a cot, and then they weren't anymore. He was curled against her side, bringing her along so that they were on their sides, face to face. His lips parted and the kiss moved beyond anything they had ever done in the waking world.
The lights dimmed further and took on a honey-gold hue. It picked out every shade of copper in her hair and made it shine like fire. There were true reds and oranges, every freckle on her pale skin like flecks of nearly translucent gold. She wasn't perfect, but perfect was boring and it was never what Quinn craved, anyway. She was like a whip of fire, a painful breath of life, and everything fierce and grounding that he had ever known. What did she want from him?