She awoke with a start, gasping for air. How long had she been asleep? The ache in her body told her it had been years, though the clock enlightened her to the fact that it had really only been a few hours.
The night was dark around her, the silence deafening. Her sleep had been restless with worrisome dreams. Had any of it happened for real? She couldn't remember what was the truth now and what was not, but she was eager to put the unconscious thoughts behind her.
She climbed out from under her covers, the butterflies falling softly to the bed as she placed her feet on the floor. Ooh, it was cold! How is it that, even in May, it could be so cold in Chicago? It's like this city lives by it's own seasons, she thought, as she made her way to the kitchen. I might as well stay up now; I don't want to go back to sleeping if I'm going to have more dreams like that. As she put the kettle on for tea, she was startled by a stirring behind her. She turned, and was shaken by the sight before her.
"Carter," she mouthed, the word coming out as a breath escaping. Her hand flew to her mouth, worry that she might wake him causing her to not want to speak aloud. He was asleep on the couch, simultaneously peaceful and frantic. How long had he been there? Why was he here? What was she going to do?