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[shelley_winters]

[OOC: Directly after this.]

It's a jolt, waking so suddenly. She stares at the shadowy ceiling, damp with sweat and shaking. She remembers... An all-too familiar nightmare which changed into a very unfamiliar dream where she and Ishamael had been children - and she couldn't do anything.

In dreams, anything's normal, but she could think, but her dream-body didn't obey the least thing she tried to do. It's still dark outside. The girl sits up, rubbing her head. That wasn't like anything, and she never dreams like that, and it makes no sense...

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[shelley_winters]

She swallows, face still pink and pressed determinedly against the pillows, and says nothing. She wants them to stop, yes, but if he decides to try bargaining for it... no.

Silence is safer.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

He carefully wove the weaves into her mind. It was a simple thing really, and with arm firmly around her laid down to sleep. He had been tired and sleep was certainly sweeter with her by his side.

A whispered goodnight as Ishamael closed his eyes.

[shelley_winters]

She doesn't relax, although after a moment she turns her head slightly so it's easier to breathe. Tensely waiting for the feel of his touch - in her mind or otherwise - sleep slowly creeps up on her, encouraged by the light weaves that she hadn't noticed, they were gentle enough.

She had intended to move elsewhere as soon as he was asleep, but somehow she drifts off before she can call up the willpower.