[Ludovico]

It was not a white void, he woke up in this time. It was a white comforter. Olivers body bolted up right from a bad dream. He ran his fingers through his hair thinking he was a bard and he had killed his knight. The last thing he remembered was a kiss, and the subtle command to wake up. He pressed two fingers against his lips and moved across the room in his boxers to gaze out the window. His alarm clock blinked at him, its red eyes telling him it was just past 10 am. He opened his curtains to view the world. Soft white drops of snow danced down from the sky. The smell of bacon brought Oliver out of his dream like state. He grabbed a robe pulling it tight around his body as he walked into the kitchen. “Good morning Zosa.” He said looking around for his glasses. He pushed them in place standing beside the man who was cooking breakfast. He leaned in close sheepishly inhaling bacon. It felt so right, but some part of him said it was wrong. He listened to the other voice telling him to accept it, to be happy, to indulge in every thing hes ever wanted. “No, the story...” He said aloud to the voices, but shut himself up at the bewildered look that his roommate gave him. He moved away making up some lie about a creative writing class and went to go look for some orange juice.