Incubus.

She saw that smile again,
an impressionable cold facade of a heated being,
in the world subconscious constructed.

He seemed more real than ever, though.
There were only beer and whisky,
they were chatty yet discerning.
It was quiet when she started feeling.
A sense of boldness and warmness only he could carry
blazed through solid ice.

He fixed his gaze as he crept closer,
it was hard to distinguish if it was in scrutiny or in awe.
Dominance and bashfulness osculated.
Then in the midst of feeling it all,
the rooster crowed proudly
and the taste of sweetness melted.