and I will weave my dreams into the fabric of your imagination."
The girl knelt beside him, her delicate fingers brushing against the silk of his skin. The moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting an ethereal glow on the sleeping god. She felt a strange mix of reverence and comfort, as if she were both guardian and muse, charged with the task of preserving his dreams.
"I'm not sure how to cover all that you are," she whispered,