Your Dream — Ddfbusty - Lucie Wilde - Choose

The girl thought for a moment. "I want a dragon. But a sad one. And we become friends."

Lucie sighed, pushing a cascade of honey-blonde curls from her face. "Fine. Load the standard template. ‘Tropical Paradise’ or ‘Medieval Quest’?"

"Why this?" he asked. "Why not a harem or a mountain of gold?"

Lucie grinned. "Now that’s a story worth telling." DDFBusty - Lucie Wilde - Choose your Dream

"I want you to surprise me," he whispered. "No beaches. No dragons. Show me something real ."

Lucie smiled, tears in her eyes. "Because those dreams end when you wake up. This one… you can carry out the door."

The clinic’s CEO saw the metrics. Within a month, Lucie Wilde was head of a new division: Empathy Dreams , pro bono for terminal patients and traumatized children. The girl thought for a moment

"Actually," the drone chirped, "he’s chosen the ‘Choose Your Dream’ package. He wants you to design it. From scratch. Your imagination only."

Her stomach flipped. That was rare. Dangerous. It meant no script, no safety rails. Just Lucie’s raw, unfiltered creativity.

She built the dream.

And the little community dream-space she’d wanted? The clinic funded it as a tax write-off.

They walked together. She didn’t sell him a fantasy; she gave him a workshop. Tools to reshape regret into courage. Loneliness into quiet strength. For two hours (which felt like two weeks in dream-time), he laughed, cried, and built a version of himself that wasn't dying—he was living .

"Mr. Davies," she said softly, sitting across from him. "I’m Lucie. I’m told you want me to choose." And we become friends

"This is…?" he breathed.