The Couch: A good night's sleep
Author's notes: Hello, salty parrots. You've come back for more, eh? What if this was it, eh? What if it was just me talking to you?? Would you stay then? Would you stay and listen to what I have to say? Lol. Just messing with you. I don't really care. Read now.
Okay, okay. I don't really hate the guy. He's letting me sleep on his couch. I'm watching him walk from the bathroom to the nightstand and back again. He's just flitting around his chambers.
He's nervous.
Because I'm watching him.
This makes me feel powerful, so I try to stare even harder. Eventually I just give up and curl up on the couch. I'm wearing my old cloak to keep me warm.
Suddenly, I feel something heavy, yet soft, drop on my feet.
"A blanket," was all he said.
I took off my cloak and wrapped myself in the blanket. It smells like him. I hope he doesn't see me sniffing his blanket. That would have to look silly.
I take one last deep breath and close my eyes.
I need sleep.
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I'm standing in front of a mangled car. No...I'm laying on the ground near a mangled car. I feel the wet, warm blood trickle down my forehead. It's going to get into my eyes, but I don't care. I'm screaming, "Mother! Father!". I'm trying to reach out to them, but I can't move. The car bursts into flames, and I hear them scream.
There's a seatbelt laying next to me on the ground.
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I woke up and sat bolt upright on the couch. I was sweating horribly, and I think I had been crying in my sleep. I was breathing heavily, and my hair was matted to the sides of my face.
I was too warm.
I kicked off the blanket, and sat there, just holding myself. I looked across the room and noticed that he was up as well. I must have woken him up by talking or screaming in my sleep. He's looking at me with this peculiar look on his face.
"I heard you talking, Sarah," he said. He got up and walked over to me. He sat down on the couch. "I know too what it's like to have bad dreams."
My breathing has slowed down and I'm a lot cooler now. I wrap myself in the blanket, and then...I leaned against him.
I wanted..no..I needed to be held. I needed to know that someone was there to hold me. He didn't protest.
We must have fallen asleep like that, because the next thing I knew, it was morning, and he was still next to me. Awake. I felt badly for having kept him up all night. I was hoping he would say something to me, but instead he just got up and walked into the bathroom.
I wanted to say "thank you". To reach out for him again. But I didn't dare.
He is a professor. I am a student.
He is Professor Snape. And one does not do such things to Professor Snape.