Today was a day of bright weather, with insects chirping and birds singing in celebration of its beauty.
Hela rolled over in bed, sunlight streaming through the blinds, her loose hair flowing down like a golden waterfall. Her white skin was incredibly soft, and her eyelashes adorably curved upwards.
Suddenly, the girl's face darkened, nightmares attacking from the depths of her subconscious. But Hela quickly regained her tranquility, revealing a faint smile.
Dreams were formed chaotically, but they could also be based on reality.
Aaron's life had stirred the memories hidden in her mind. Her past imprisonment had clung to Hela as the most terrifying ghost, yet now she was no longer afraid of them in her dreams because Hewitt would always appear in front of her, no matter how frightening the nightmare.
Exactly at eight-thirty.
