The client meeting had been a disaster.
Ava sat in her cramped office at the planning firm, staring at the rejection notes scrawled across her latest renderings. "Too ambitious," they'd said. "Not cost-effective." Her boss had given her that pitying look again — the one that screamed burnout.
She escaped to the warehouse after dark, the site now her secret refuge. Power tools lay silent; only the occasional drip of leftover rainwater broke the quiet.
"Theo?" she called softly, pressing her palm to a freshly poured concrete pillar. It was still warm from the day's curing.
His voice came immediately, stronger than before. "I felt that. Your frustration... it tastes like lightning."
She leaned her forehead against the cool surface. "They hated the changes. Said the curves were impractical. But you said—"
"I know what I said." His tone turned commanding, seductive. "Because in my timeline, those curves make this building legendary. People come from across the city just to stand where you're standing now and feel... connected."
Ava smiled despite herself. "Connected to what?"
"To the echo of us."
The air shifted. A low hum vibrated through the pillar, traveling up her arm. She gasped as phantom warmth spread across her back, as if a solid chest pressed against her from behind.
"Close your eyes," Theo instructed. "Imagine my hands on your waist. Guiding you."
She did. The sensation intensified — invisible fingers splaying over her hips, pulling her gently back against an imagined body. Heat flooded her core.
"Tell me what you need tonight, Ava," he whispered, lips brushing her ear in her mind. "Not for the building. For you."
Her voice came out breathy. "I need... to feel real. Not just voices and blueprints. This possession... it's driving me crazy."
A dark chuckle. "Possession? Oh, darling. You have no idea how much I want to claim every inch of you across time."
He guided her hands again, this time to the steel framework. Together they adjusted support beams in her mind's eye — bolder cantilevers, integrated green walls that would bloom in future years. With every mark she mentally committed to paper, the connection deepened. His voice grew richer, more tactile.
At one point, the sensations overwhelmed her. She sank to her knees on a drop cloth, breathing hard as his words painted vivid scenes: his future self walking these halls, whispering her name while touching the walls she'd shaped. The erotic charge built until she was trembling on the edge, body alight with need.
But then — a sharp crackle of static.
"Theo? Theo, wait—"
His voice fractured. "Ava... the ripple... too strong. One more change tonight and I might slip further away. Hold the line. Dream of me."
The presence vanished, leaving her aching and alone, the warehouse suddenly colder. She stared at her trembling hands. The designs were evolving faster than she could document, but at what cost?