Silence.
Curtains closed, lights dimmed, Navaya's body sprawled on satin sheets atop the bed, her twisted ankle propped on fluffy pillows, in the clad of silence. Sweet sweet silence.
Peace.
Even as she slept, a smile still tugged at her lips but it was ephemeral. Her once unperturbed slumber shriveled to nothing and it was all because of the repeated dinging of her doorbell, the annoying sound causing her head to spin. It was either that or she was having a hangover. It was probably the latter, judging from how much alcohol she gobbled up the night before.
She stirred to lay on her side, planting her face on a pillow to drown out the infuriating sounds coming all the way from downstairs and at the same time, to stifle her own irritation. If it hadn't been for the skull-splitting headache or the ailing pain of her twisted ankle, then Navaya wouldn't have been this irked by the atrocious upheaval to her rest. She would have been more tolerating.
