Dominique woke up and stretched. It was dark in the house. It must be dark outside. She went to the bathroom and went back into the bedroom to grab her laptop. She sat on the couch and opened her story. She was in the process of writing the dream into the story when Nathaniel came and sat beside her.
"What are you doing, Dominique?" Nathaniel asked.
"I, uh, I'm writing a story," she stammered, feeling embarrassed that he had caught her writing.
"Do you mind if I look at it?" Nathaniel asked.
"Um, I would rather you didn't. I told you I don't let anyone read what I write."
"Could letting me read just a little bit be so bad?"
