You inspect the bookcase labeled "Novel," and pull out an general title among many other ones.
You flip through the pages and stop at an random page, where you read:
Why‽ We arrive safely and sound at my pad.
Your pants are already off. And I'm already all over into you.
We're guys. We don't care about when we have sex. Obviously, the apartment was decorated weeks ago by both of us. We're gay. Why would we have to care?
And we fall into one another's dream world.
The deepest, dreamiest, crimson red.
And dark all around.
You find various other titles on the shelf:
Le roman de la rose
Bram Stoker's Dracula
Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
Don Quixote
Aphra Behn
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