Cold. That's the first thing she feels as she stretches her lids open; filtering out the light. The sheets tangle around her in a mass of coolness, reminding her of her loneliness. The warmth of the fire emanates around her like a halo; never touching her yet lingering.
Cold. That's all she feels and thinks as she pulls the bell cord.
Earth-shatteringly loud her blood drums in her ears. Her hair amass of curls; ivory skin growing sallow in the early morning light.
"Would you like me to get you your breakfast, milady?"
She doesn't know why she even called Watson, she's not even hungry.
"Can I get you anything, milady?"
"A different life. A different time."
"We're all by your side, milady, me more than anyone. You can always talk to me, milady."
Her lips creak open, dry and worthless. "Th-thank you..."
Nothing fits. Nothing feels right. At least, without him.