She's a hot mess. Totally, unbelievably hot. But still a mess.

She's a frenzy of sensation.

An innocent knock on the door and suddenly just her.

Her lips, her hair, her hands.

And now his back's against the wall and her hips are pressed against his and it feels so damn good.

But it's wrong. All of it is wrong.

He's at war. He has to pull away but her face is soft and her lips taste like heaven and he never wants to stop.

No. Wrong, so very wrong.

This isn't her. This is not her.

He pushes the stranger away, turns his back. He needs to think.

How can he? He can barely breathe.

Stop. Think. Figure it out.

"What the hell?"

Too harsh.

"Are you okay?"

Too vague.

Dozens of possibilities yet all that escapes his lips is her name.

"Kirsten?"

Her eyes are wild. Her breath is heavy. Her cheeks are flushed.

Hot mess.

Explanations. Deductions. Conclusions.

"Kirsten?"

Single syllables. He's a man of science after all.

Her shoulders square. Her fists clench. She's ready for battle.

"I love you."

Doesn't compute. Doesn't make sense.

Is he dreaming? Is he dead?

No, they established that.

Not dead.

Mostly.

"I love you and I thought you should know."

She says it like everything is okay. His heart is beating out of his chest. Everything is fine.

No, not fine. Wrong, so so wrong.

It's not her, and he knows.

Residual. Not real. Not her.

"No, Kirsten."

It's a surrender. It's defeat.

"No you don't."

Her eyes water. His words hurt.

The truth hurts.

"This isn't you."

And she'll see that.

Tomorrow, when the sun's up and things makes sense and her mind is her own.

"No, Cameron!"

She takes a step closer.

He sees it. He feels it.

He cowers from it.

"Cameron, I love you! I do!"

She's desperate. She's calling for help.

But she's wrong.

She'll see that tomorrow.

"No."

It's simple. It's final.

It's a stab through his chest, spilling his heart onto the floor.

He moves around her.

Doesn't touch her.

The touch will make him believe it's real.

He opens the door. He waits.

She's confused and furious and afraid and he's dying.

But she'll see tomorrow.

She shakes her head. She's given in.

She moves like a shadow. He can't be sure of what he sees.

She's gone. He's alone. And that's okay.

Because she'll see tomorrow.