I was reading a book called The Sleuth's Lover or something like that, and I changed my bedroom according to the book, so I was suddenly super short and could barely reach anything in my room. I guess I went to work or something, and I was showing my coworkers my new book and teeling them about the sequel. The guy I like (and dream about all the time apparently) came into the room, and he had a book or watch or something that he cherished that I had given to him, and he was very protective of it. He got a spot on it somehow, and he quickly cleaned it off in a panic. When he came back, one of our other coworkers were talking to me about the book and teasing me about my clothes because I had a spot on my pants knee. I tried to explain it, but you know how some people always like to talk over you. When the guy I like took my side, I resorted to curling up against him like a cat and hissing at the other guy (which definitely sounds odd, but it's a little less so if you know me). He defended me and told me he loved me. I woke up after that.
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