Ezrahl was breathing heavily.
His one hand was on her shoulder as he kept her down. Aesther's eyes were slightly open, looking dazed and dark.
"...you're dreaming," he whispered, looking at her warily, "go back to sleep."
She simply watched him in silence.
The grumbling of the skies outside made their closeness more dreary and dangerous. The lightning roared impatiently, filling the room with ominous darkness.
Aesther let out a trembling breath.
Her voice was barely a murmur when she spoke, but her words were loud as she fisted a hand on his shirt.
"I am getting cold."
In her hazy dreams, Aesther couldn't separate what was real and what was not. She was unaware of how many hours passed, or when she had ended up sleeping next to him, snuggling as she softly shivered.
In her hazy dreams, she was back in that bitter night of shuddering storms. Inside her empty sombre castle.
She refused to let Ezrahl die.
