She even sleeps differently now. She used to lie on her back, in the middle of the bed. She always looked peaceful, like nothing could harm her. Now she's on her side, curled into a tight knot like a baby, clutching all the blankets in her arms like she's trying to hold onto something. Trying to hold onto someone. Oh, Bella. She must be getting cold, I realize. She's holding so tightly to the balled up quilt that she's exposed herself. I try to take the blankets out of her hands and she's stronger than I expect. Although I could easily take the blanket out of her arms, it would mean waking her. So I leave it be.
"Don't!" she says with more fierceness than I remember. For a minute I think that she's talking to me, that I've woken her.
"Please, just don't!" she screams, and I realize she must be dreaming, that she isn't addressing me. She turns over and I use the chance to smooth the covers over her again. That's much better. She won't be cold anymore. I run my hand lightly over her face, while trying not to wake her. I wonder whether, if I could hear her, if I could also go into her dreams. I've never tried going into someone's dream before, but I probably could. I want to. I want to know what she's seeing and hearing right now that's making her call out. She stirs, thrashing around. If I were human she'd probably hurt me with that kicking. As it is, it's barely a tap, but still manages to hurt in a different way. I put a hand on her shoulder and she seems to still a bit.
"Shhhhh, Bella," I whisper, knowing she can't hear me, "I'm here. Promise."