My eyes were dry and scratchy as I continued to stare forward, not seeing anything. Still curled up into a ball, I wasn't even sure if I could move my arms and legs.
I felt like a 90 year old woman who, with one wrong move, might snap something I shouldn't have.
"Are you okay?" asked Ba'dqeel, slowly waking up. I hope the phantoms had given him better dreams than they had given me. I had been too scared to go back to sleep, worried that I would just be reliving my death again and again.
I was tired.
Every so slowly, like my neck was going to break if I moved too fast, I turned my head so that my cheek was resting on top of my knees. It was the easiest way to see the male beside me.
"Nope," I grunted, pretty sure that that should have been obvious to such an observant male. "Not even a little."
"Bad dreams?" asked He'dtaalh, sitting up on the bed from my other side. "You should have woken me up."
