Nightmares
Mar. 21st, 2017 10:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
st_unningAlcuin had been at the hotel for over a month now, and had not been sleeping much better than he had when he arrived. He would frequently wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, or feeling a scream dying on his lips. Sometimes he remembered the dreams. Sometimes they were memories - of the attack, of blood and pain, of the light dying in Anafiel's eyes. Of Bouvarre, his greedy hands and eyes, the knife sliding into Alcuin's skin. Or worse, dreams that were more dreams, and even worse than the reality had been.
Often he could never hope to go back to sleep after, and so he'd turn on the lights and write in his journal or read whatever (likely terrible) book he'd found in the hotel gift shop. Though at least even bad books were a distraction.
But sleepless nights meant that he sometimes spent the daytime exhausted. This was not the first time he'd fallen asleep by accident, this time underneath a tree not far from the stables, where he'd been sitting and reading. The book had fallen to the ground beside him, and once he'd fallen asleep he had curled up in the soft grass by the tree.
Even now, in the sunshine and the safety of the inn, a nightmare came to him, a particularly bad one. In his sleep, he stirred, fingers digging slightly in the dirt, and cried out in distress, still mostly asleep.
Often he could never hope to go back to sleep after, and so he'd turn on the lights and write in his journal or read whatever (likely terrible) book he'd found in the hotel gift shop. Though at least even bad books were a distraction.
But sleepless nights meant that he sometimes spent the daytime exhausted. This was not the first time he'd fallen asleep by accident, this time underneath a tree not far from the stables, where he'd been sitting and reading. The book had fallen to the ground beside him, and once he'd fallen asleep he had curled up in the soft grass by the tree.
Even now, in the sunshine and the safety of the inn, a nightmare came to him, a particularly bad one. In his sleep, he stirred, fingers digging slightly in the dirt, and cried out in distress, still mostly asleep.
