Dorian's eyes that night were the indicator that it was the more serious kind of night. Whenever he would play with me, his eyes had this mistiness to them, a kind I liked to think of as a symptom of our family gift. They were like fairy lights and stars in his eyes, a kind of unfocused thought in the green of them. It was the kind that I always seemed to have when I looked in the mirror, the kind that looked just like me, but on a masculine face.

No, that night his eyes had the focused sharpness to them and he helped me dress, gently stroking my...