Here be dragons

I'm laying on a bed. It's made of forged iron, painted white, with high, graceful spirals making up the head and feets of it. The sheet are white too, as is the bigs fluffy pilows. translucents drapes billows from the ceiling to the floor around it, half obscuring the light walls and the french window. Say window is half open to a lush garden. It's day time, but the room is shrouded in shadow. I'm surrounded with bright orange goldfishes, swimming in the air in a complex choregraphy. I touch one of the mand it turn into a luminescent blue, shining with its bones shadowing its skin. It stop when I let go of it. I touch another one and the same thing happen. I find it pretty, and touch my own arm. The same thing happen, my flesh turn blue and luminescent from the tips of my fingers to my shoulder. I realise that I'm wearing a floorlenght nightgown, and that I'm sharing the bed with a sandy haired man. He's sleeping, and I touch his thigh. His whole leg changes, and he wake up. At first he doesn"t say anything, but as I gently move my hand to his torso he starts to freak out and begs me to stop. I'm surprised ans doesn't understand why he's so distressed by what I'm doing, but I let go of him and lay back down on the bed, playing with the goldfishes.