She woke up with a sharp gasp, drawing her hands back against her body so abruptly that she tore the bandage from her elbow.
A dream. Just a dream.
She sighed and pressed the peeled bandage back to her arm to stanch the fresh bleeding. It was late in the morning, nearly midday. Normally, she’d be awake around dawn, but apparently becoming a Noctaere was as exhausting the second time as it had been the first. She took a few moments to breathe, to calm the shaking of her hands.
Then it occurred to her, with a mortifying jolt of horror, that somebody else might have seen the dream. She quickly flung the journal open, but nobody seemed to have seen it or responded to it. All she saw was the tail end of her conversation with Aang from the night before.
Take the risk. He'll meet you there. And between the two of you, you'll be fine.
Insipid nonsense. Like he knew. Like he’d ever-
The thought was interrupted when she saw another message appearing in her journal on the opposite page, in Shealtiel’s handwriting, and for a moment her heart dropped. Maybe he had seen the dream after all. Maybe this would be the moment that he finally-
Hey, can you come over today? I need you to check something in the terrarium for me.
The... Terrarium? She certainly hadn’t anticipated that. Especially not after yesterday. She’d never really looked at what he wrote yesterday, come to think of it. She glances back and... it was much more along the lines of what she expected. A few token attempts to initiate conversations, a reminder that he’s next door if she needs anything, and then nothing else.
You’ll never deserve him. Never.
She gave a hiss of irritation at the thought, then grabbed her quill and scribbled a message back.
I’ll be over in an hour.
Then she slammed the book closed, as if she could somehow seal the nagging in her own mind inside.
She was, at least, able to obscure the bandages and injuries on her arms with long sleeves. Makeup was able to obscure the bruising and scraping of her face, though the black eye and the scraped cheekbone had taken extra effort to conceal. Her hands... were rough, but they weren’t bleeding anymore, so she could at least remove the bandages. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the condition of her nails, right?
Of course he would. Ugh. Well, maybe she could keep him on-task by focusing on the terrarium. She inspected herself in the mirror; she looked worse for wear, but she at least didn’t look as dire as she did yesterday. She didn’t look awful. It would suffice.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Before I Come Undone
Date: 2026-02-14 05:17 am (UTC)A dream. Just a dream.
She sighed and pressed the peeled bandage back to her arm to stanch the fresh bleeding. It was late in the morning, nearly midday. Normally, she’d be awake around dawn, but apparently becoming a Noctaere was as exhausting the second time as it had been the first. She took a few moments to breathe, to calm the shaking of her hands.
Then it occurred to her, with a mortifying jolt of horror, that somebody else might have seen the dream. She quickly flung the journal open, but nobody seemed to have seen it or responded to it. All she saw was the tail end of her conversation with Aang from the night before.
Take the risk. He'll meet you there. And between the two of you, you'll be fine.
Insipid nonsense. Like he knew. Like he’d ever-
The thought was interrupted when she saw another message appearing in her journal on the opposite page, in Shealtiel’s handwriting, and for a moment her heart dropped. Maybe he had seen the dream after all. Maybe this would be the moment that he finally-
Hey, can you come over today? I need you to check something in the terrarium for me.
The... Terrarium? She certainly hadn’t anticipated that. Especially not after yesterday. She’d never really looked at what he wrote yesterday, come to think of it. She glances back and... it was much more along the lines of what she expected. A few token attempts to initiate conversations, a reminder that he’s next door if she needs anything, and then nothing else.
You’ll never deserve him. Never.
She gave a hiss of irritation at the thought, then grabbed her quill and scribbled a message back.
I’ll be over in an hour.
Then she slammed the book closed, as if she could somehow seal the nagging in her own mind inside.
She was, at least, able to obscure the bandages and injuries on her arms with long sleeves. Makeup was able to obscure the bruising and scraping of her face, though the black eye and the scraped cheekbone had taken extra effort to conceal. Her hands... were rough, but they weren’t bleeding anymore, so she could at least remove the bandages. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the condition of her nails, right?
Of course he would. Ugh. Well, maybe she could keep him on-task by focusing on the terrarium. She inspected herself in the mirror; she looked worse for wear, but she at least didn’t look as dire as she did yesterday. She didn’t look awful. It would suffice.