Sorry for another long wait. This particular story is framed around something I have trouble with myself. The 'dreams' that Marinette is experiencing are actually hallucinations that occur in a semi-conscious state and the condition is called sleeping paralysis. It is tied to some sleep disorders, like narcolepsy, but, lucky for me, it can be caused by many different things. It can happen at a higher frequency if my mind is hyperactive before falling asleep, such as when I am overworked or stressed out. I guess the poor sleep is part of the reason for my infrequent uploads, but, still I hope everyone finds this enjoyable.
The room is silent as a young woman lay snuggled up against her cat body pillow, desperately searching for that oh-so-hard-to-come-by deep sleep she's been on a constant hunt for these last few weeks. Between the overwhelming yet still rewarding bakery tasks, endless schoolwork and secretly saving Paris nearly every day, any chance at a few moments of silence and tranquility is most welcome -despite the...let's call them drawbacks. And even in spite of these unspecified pitfalls, especially when considering that her busy schedule has left her stressed and mostly without a spare moment for relaxation of any variety, this rare opportunity for an afternoon nap had been too good to pass up. One might wonder what could be the drawback or the pitfall of a much needed nap. To anyone else, a deep and undisturbed slumber may sound like paradise. This is true of her too. With confidence, this young lady can say that as overworked, exhausted, stressed out as she is, she would love nothing more than to have some semblance of peace in her life. Unfortunately lately, she's been unable to find solace even in the supposed comfort of her own mind.
The silence, seemingly peaceful just moments prior, is shifting into a nauseating mixture of oppressive and eerie. It's as if she's slowly suffocating, drowning in a lake of lukewarm water and lost in a vast emptiness all at once. Her eyes dart around her bedroom, which appears on the surface to be the same as it ever is -all the same books in the same places, all the same decorations on the walls-except she knows something is wrong. Something stalks her from the shadows, creeping quietly just beyond the edges of her peripheral vision, drawing ever closer as she opens her mouth to call for rescue, only to realize that she is not able to produce a single sound. Her mind switches from fight to flight in an instant, unsure why she can't call for help but sure that running is her only salvation. This is the moment she realizes she is also unable to make her body move. As the presence looms ever closer, she desperately struggles, racing with all her might to make her unresponsive body comply with her brain's command to run or cry out for rescue, but nothing will come.
As she continues her mental struggle, terrified and reeling from the realization that she lacks any control of her own body, she can tell the presence is nearly on top of her, waiting to consume her, harm her…or do whatever nefarious thing it has planned. Everything seems as if it's coming to a swift end until…her eyes open?
As consciousness sets in, her heart begins to thud in her chest and she sits up, suddenly somehow regaining control over her movements. The teenager glances around her perfectly normal room, which now lacks any trace of the terrifying monster that seemed so real only seconds ago. Arms trembling and breaths rapid and shaky, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and releases a heavy sigh. 'You've gotta be kidding,' her mind tosses out venomously, 'I can't even have one normal nap?'
Needless to say now, each time the young hero closes her eyes, she is plagued with nightmares of this type. Sometimes they will go on and on as many times as she wakes up and then, exhausted, falls asleep once more. Rinse, repeat. Up to fifteen times in a single night. Is it any wonder she now considers sleep to be both a precious commodity and a menace? One second you are resting comfortably after a trying day and the next, something terrifying you can't quite see is after you, intending harm. You know to run, to call out for aid, but you no longer have such capabilities. Surely the problem with sleep is now clearly illustrated.
Irritated, she rubs at her eyes, heaving another heavy sigh. Sliding off the side of the bed and into a standing position, Marinette hears her kwami stir beside her. "Marinette?" The small red and black creature called Tikki softly questions, concerned for her friend. Hovering up and leveling beside her friend, the creature's expression now matches her tone. "You look troubled."
Marinette doesn't respond at first, simply grinning in response to the flow of warmth that overcomes her knowing that her friend, her kwami is always here to offer support. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, noting upon turning on the screen that it's only 3:30pm. After that fun little experience, the bluenette acutely is aware there will be no more shut eye to be had here today. Nothing to do for the rest of the afternoon unless -dare she even think it- something comes up with Hawkmoth. There's plenty of early spring daylight left. It might not be a bad idea to go out for a walk, maybe get some coffee or try and get inspired to do some sketching -but first a shower is in order.
"Marinette?" The kwami questions again, prompted into another inquiry by the teenager's lack of a response.
"I'm fine Tikki," Comes her reply a second later with a tired but nonetheless genuine smile, "Just a bad dream. I think I'll get cleaned up and go for a walk. Wanna come?"
"Sure Marinette, just let me know when you're ready!" Cheery as ever, Tikki then snuggles back up on her partner's cat body pillow and shuts her eyes.
Marinette walks along the side walk, hands in the pockets of her shorts, sans Tikki. She came back in to find her kwami in a deep sleep on the body pillow and unable to wake up the creature, had left without her. The young fashion designer not only knows the importance of good, regular sleep now that she's been this long without it, but she figures Tikki must be equally tired with all of the akuma activity and battles lately. Hawkmoth does seem to have a pattern of one victim at a time -or two victims merged in the case of oblivio -a more recent defeat of Ladybug and Cat Noir's- so Marinette figures a short walk can't hurt too much.
Even super villains must occasionally have other tasks to attend to, right? Must be more to that life than looking at one's schedule going 'Oh, guess I'll have to move brunch on Thursday, otherwise my schedule will be too full for nefarious plots.' One can only assume that Hawkmoth is some regular -albeit deluded and misguided person- with an ordinary life outside of being the bad guy every minute of every day.
The whole of her walk is quiet and thoughtful, the sounds of the city fading around her until only the faint sound of the breeze seems to register in her mind. Funny how easy it can be to relax when she isn't actively trying to sleep. Go figure. Stopping by a quiet coffee shop, she purchases the strongest iced coffee she sees on the menu and slowly sips on it while meandering through the Paris streets. 'Well,' she figures, 'as long as I can't sleep anyway, I might as well over caffinate myself.' The drink doesn't last long and doesn't seem to aid much in her quest to feel a bit more awake so she discards the empty plastic container in a nearby wastebasket and waits for the signal to allow her to cross the street. The river is close by after all, maybe the quiet sound of the gently flowing water will help to keep her in the relaxed state of mind created by the quiet afternoon and her tired brain.
Lost in the quiet musings of her own mind, Marinette slumps into one of the benches along the Parisian street, overwhelmed by her exhaustion as her body eases into the seat. This is what happens when every night she wakes up in a panic and can't fall asleep for two hours afterward. If, that is, she manages to fall back asleep at all. That's to say nothing of how a simple nap can turn into a wasteland full of nightmares where no peace from the stress of the day can be found. Apparently, it all leads up to winding up a frustrated, stressed, exhausted teenager parked on a random Paris bench, contemplating the matters that seem almost eternally hopeless.
A yawn overtakes her facial features as she relaxes back into the seat and watches pigeons eating some bird seed that had likely been scattered there earlier in the day by tourists. Her mind begins to wonder if she's ever going to have a good night's sleep again when a familiar male voice breaks through the echo chamber of her thoughts. The voice seems to be coming from above, so her gaze turns upward and her eyes fall upon a certain blue eyed musician leaning over the bow of his mother's house boat, sporting a look of pleasant surprise.
"Hey!" He calls, smiling down at her as the gears begin to turn in her head. This is the same guy who only two and a half weeks ago had confessed he had feelings for her, in possibly the most gorgeous and poetic way she's ever heard. Her face fills with color as she looks up at him and waves, before she finally can't take it anymore and averts her gaze. How is she going to muster up the energy to speak normally with someone who flat out declared their love while she's in this sorry, borderline decrepit state? Especially when that someone is also an attractive, talented, compassionate and funny guy who she is already aware she has some feelings of her own for.
Before she has time to let these thoughts consume her, the boy has taken a seat beside her on the bench, his gentle smile so infectious that even as out of it as she is right now, she can't help but return it.
"It's been a while," His head dips ever so slightly to one side as if to signal a silent question, the same calm expression and gentle smile never fading once. "I didn't make you feel uncomfortable being around me, did I?" Though she had been going with the flow until this point, his tone gives her pause. Now called to attention, Marinette studies the small details that didn't stand out to her before. The tension in his expression is so much more obvious on closer examination, the way his lip curls downward ever so slightly, the slight crease in his brow and the worry reflecting back at her from those oceanic eyes of his. She is struck by the thought that Luka is concerned over this sort of thing. Really, she knows she shouldn't be. She knows how she would feel if the roles were reversed. It's just hard to picture the calm, cool, collected guy who meditates as a hobby and makes playing an instrument look easy becoming anxious over a romantic gesture. And this is the guy who thinks she's avoiding him because she doesn't want to answer? Or because she doesn't want to hurt him by turning him down? Okay, maybe she had been a bit surprised when he had told her she was like a song that had been playing in his head since they met, but she wasn't put off by it.
In fact, she was elated to hear Luka's feelings might reflect her own. Even thinking about it now makes her heart rate pick up and her face flush, but she doesn't find herself becoming a blithering mess like she would with Adrien. Maybe it's only because this is the first guy she's liked who has showed interest in return. It could be, looking at the situation from a place of cynicism. Never one to consider herself an overly-cynical person, Marinette can't help but think maybe this new, less intense and more comfortable atmosphere that comes about naturally as a result of spending time with Luka is how it should feel to be around someone you have feelings for.
Currently, she finds herself experiencing a lot of complex and confusing emotions, as it now seems she has feelings for two different people at the same time. So, sure, she's willing to at least admit she doesn't really know how to respond at present, and thinking about what to do in response to his confession in addition to her other obligations is very likely adding to her stress. But feeling awkward enough to avoid him? Or feeling angry or uncomfortable? No, of course not. That's just silly.
"N-no…I've just been busy…" Her words are divided by a yawn, "…lately…" It is quickly followed up by a second yawn.
Her eyes trail away from his face when she feels the pressure of his fingers fall onto her shoulder. "Luka?" Blue bell orbs once again line up with electric blue.
"Are you okay?" He questions, studying her carefully, slowly scanning each detail of her face in search of any small clue that may help him understand. "You look terrible."
Biting her lip, a sinking feeling floods her stomach and she dips her head slightly in acknowledgement. She is aware she's not in top form right now, but there really isn't a need to highlight her unkempt hair and wrinkled clothing. I mean, how good can a person look running on what must equate to 10 total hours of sleep in 3 weeks? "Thanks." She mutters, feeling both a bit offended and a little disappointed that Luka would make such a superficial comment on someone's outward appearance. At least, she never pegged him as the sort of guy to draw attention to other people's insecurities.
"S-sorry!" The look of regret tells her it was but a misunderstanding. One of his uncouth moments, where one thing was meant, but another was spoken. The young woman trains her attention on her friend, attempting to suppress another yawn. "I meant...you look tired. I know sometimes I'm not good at being clear."
"R-right." She offers her best smile. A ghost of an expression, really. Her reply is soft, quiet and she can muster little else. "I am a little tired I guess."
"You can tell me about it, if you want. Maybe I can help?" He encourages her softly, the same gentle smile taking over his features. A breeze catches his hair at just the right moment, framing the angles of his cheekbones perfectly as she looks up at him. Even in her exhausted state, she feels the heat rush up the back of her neck and wash over her nose and cheeks. Boy is he good looking. "I'll listen."
"It's not really a big deal…" A blatant falsehood. Not sleeping for three weeks is a very big deal. But should she be troubling him with these matters? Even though she's sure it would help ease some of her anxieties to talk openly with someone, she knows he must have his own worries. He has his own schoolwork, his work with the band and his own family obligations. She would regret becoming an imposition.
"It is though...if you're not feeling well, you can come up on deck and lay down for a bit. I'm sure mom would let you take a nap in one of our extra cabins..." His comments trail off into the sound of the light spring breeze. She can see him studying her, awaiting a response, but she finds herself fresh out of words. It's nice of him to offer and boy does a nap ever sound fantastic, but, at the same time…even if she does sleep, she's probably bound to run into the same dilemma that led her to this point of exhaustion in the first place.
Her gaze is averted, but she feels it as Luka begins to pull away stand up. Realizing his intention is to leave, it seems her mind is made up for her. She finds herself taking hold of his arm before she realizes she's reached toward him. Both teenagers surprised by this action, a moment of silent eye contact is exchanged before Luka shifts his weight back into a sitting position beside the young lady. Marinette can feel the heat rushing to her cheeks again as he shoots her that same tender, knowing smile. As nervous as is she is about unloading all of her mundane troubles onto a friend, she also knows she doesn't have it in her to refuse this offer of help. Nor does she fancy being alone at the moment. Maybe speaking the words aloud will in some way alleviate her distress. When she considers that Luka will be the one to hear her worries, she even begins to feel a little lighter, as if a weight she'd been carrying is suddenly lifted away.
Bearing all of that in mind, she launches into a vivid description of everything that's been happening over the last several weeks, leaving out no detail. From the feeling of being overworked to the terrifying creature stalking her in her nightmares, she tries to be as clear describing all of it as she is able, omitting the parts that revolve around her time as Ladybug. Luka sits quietly beside her and watches, nodding in response and listening patiently. As her rant begins to come to a close, she notices that Luka's hand is gently rubbing her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. A surprisingly intimate move on his part, but not one that Marinette decides is unwelcome.
"Honestly…I'm kind of afraid to even fall asleep anymore." She admits, feeling just the slightest twinge of shame at the admittance that bad dreams have been keeping her up during the night.
"Nothing to be ashamed of," True to form, Luka picks up on what feelings she hides just barely below the surface, "I wouldn't be sleeping much either, if it were me."
Her grateful smile fades quickly back into a frown as she recalls waking up each night for the past week, trembling, frustrated and confused. The annoyance of wanting to sleep and knowing her brain will undoubtedly torment her if she tries comes back to the forefront of her train of thought. "I-I…I can't go back to sleep if I wake up during the night after one of these nightmares. And I've been dealing with school and the bakery…some real sleep would be nice." She's relieved to have spoken about all of this with a trusted friend. At the same time, the bluenette is curious what he thinks of all this. Her random appearance at his home, then her borderline incoherent babbling about scary dreams, deadlines and working.
Luka brings himself back up onto his feet as she watches him for a physical tell that could clue her in on his thoughts. Her deep blue eyes remain trained on his lean form as he takes a deep breath. A second of silence passes between the two young people before he finally turns to look at her once again. Struck by the redness that adorns his ears and the somewhat timid smile playing on his features, the teenager feels her heart rate begin to pick up again. Before she can even contemplate the idea that this may be the first time she's ever seen him look flustered, he kneels down next to her.
"I kinda get what's going on. I can help," He tells her, expression and body language creating a clear illustration of his unease, "If you feel okay with it."
Flustered and unsure what words she wants to use, the young woman simply nods a reply and then is swiftly scooped up into his arms. He carries her up the gangplank and onto the deck of the boat, then eases them both down into a seat near the bow of the vessel. Stunned, Marinette searches out his gaze and when the two lock eyes, she can see another wave of uncertainty wash over him. The muscles in his arms tighten as he pulls them away from her, his posture stiffens and he clears his throat awkwardly.
"I sometimes have dreams like the ones you described. It happened a lot more when I was little though," Marinette wonders what could be going on in his mind as his eyes scan her briefly before he continues. "I could only relax enough to fall asleep if another person was close by, so I thought maybe it would help you if I…" Luka trails off into something of a mumble before going completely silent mid-sentence, almost as if too embarrassed to continue. The young guitarist's genuine desire to show support is heartwarming and calms her. Slowly, she begins to relax just as her friend picks up said guitar and strums the first few chords of a soft and gentle melody. Any lingering tension seems to completely evaporate as the notes fill the quiet spring afternoon.
Backing her body up against his side, she leans against the wall. Within just a few short seconds, the young fashion designer is sinking back into what she swears is the most comfortable resting spot she's ever sat in. Of course, that may just be the exhaustion taking over. Still, it's easy enough to imagine it's really true. Her eyes drift to a close and the only sounds she can hear are those of Luka's guitar and the repetitive lapping of the water against the side of the houseboat.
"If you feel uncomfortable at all, you can leave any time you want." There it is again. The distinct sound of nerves coming through in the tone of his voice. Though he is quite good at maintaining his calm appearance, she has surely noticed the tension he's trying to keep under control.
"I'm not." Breathing already beginning to even out, Marinette knows it won't be long before she drifts off into sleep and it would be dishonest to say she has no reservations about it. When her brain torments her with terrifying images every time she's unconscious, she would be remiss if she didn't resist the onset of sleep. This time, however, she also feels a fundamental change in the atmosphere around her. When the music fades off once more into silence, her brain isn't racing a million miles a minute. The quiet of the afternoon doesn't feel oppressive. She isn't letting every little slip up as Ladybug or every misstep around her peers at school consume her every thought. In fact, they hardly even enter her mind at all. A tired smile creeps over her face as she snuggles back against the boy beside her, growing more grateful for the peace provided by his naturally calming presence. "This is nice. Thanks…" A lengthy yawn puts the thought on hold. "Luka…"
"Any time," She doesn't catch the lilt in his tone, already nearly overtaken by her body's need for rest.
A breeze picks up and toys with locks of his electric blue hair as Luka strums another few chords of his guitar. As the young woman slumbers, she shifts, causing her head to begin to slide off his shoulder. Falling would mean she wakes up, and he'd rather nothing disturb this peaceful looking nap of hers. Carefully and with just enough time, he gently supports her head and neck and eases her down so she can make herself comfortable in the space beside him. Instead of curling up against the wall, she shuffles forward as if searching out her pillow and finds his lap instead. Biting down on his lip, he can't help but let his eyes linger on the blue-haired young lady who now rests on his thigh. Her ribs rise and fall slowly as she tucks her arms against her chest and stretches out her legs a little in her sleep. A serene smile plays on her lips. Locks of her tied up hair have escaped and now lay across her cheek. He glances back at his guitar, continuing to idly strike the chords as he inwardly appreciates this moment of time he has with her.
Hours? Seconds? He isn't sure about the flow of time anymore. At some point while the sun is getting lower in the sky and the early spring breeze is cooling off, the young woman begins to stir in her resting place on his lap. After a stretch, Marinette reaches up and rubs the sleep from her eyes before glancing around to attain an understanding of her current surroundings. He takes note of the way her body stiffens as she realizes she's laying on someone and sees the color in her cheeks as her eyes rise to meet his. He continues to strike the chords of his instrument, trying not to take it personally as the girl recoils at nearing the speed of light itself. Scrambling into a position on her knees, Marinette falls into her usual habit of incoherent nervous stuttering. He turns, remaining silent while she calms herself down and offers her a smile of reassurance.
"So-Sorry Luka!" Still, Luka says nothing. He knows this is a time where, if he were to say the wrong thing, he could end up making her feel uncomfortable, so he simply shakes his head and waits. Her movements slow to a stop. Luka's smile remains in place as he opens his mouth to speak.
"Did you finally get some good sleep?" Really, it is the only thing that comes to mind. As if it hadn't been embarrassing enough picking her up like a princess and bringing her up on deck for a nap, now that she's woken up, his nerves are nearing completely shot. His calm exterior hides the rapid pace of his heart as he watches her piecing this all together.
"Oh…yeah…I guess I did…" Marinette ponders this for a few seconds longer then pointedly meets his eyes and offers a genuinely grateful smile before concluding her thoughts. "Thanks!"
"Good." This time it is Luka who breaks the eye contact. His voice is steady, his appearance neutral. On the inside, however, he's anything but calm.
The soft music follows up Luka's words as his companion brings herself up onto her feet and smooths out her clothing. It takes a great deal of self control not to stop her when he hears her head in the direction of the gangplank. If she's ready to go, he would be a hypocrite if he were to ask her to stay longer than she is comfortable with. After all, just before her nap he had told her she could leave at any time. Even if it weren't for that, he still feels somewhat guilty over his intimate treatment of her today. Is it really right to be so cozy with her after he had just confessed? Especially given the fact that she still has the kind of feelings she does for someone else. It is dishonest to say he doesn't hope she wants to be with him, but he also doesn't want to come off as if he's manipulating her into making a choice that favors him.
"I should get home," The girl informs him, "I'll see you later."
He chooses to simply nod an acknowledgement.
A moment passes between her words and the quiet footfalls on the old wooden deck that carry her back toward solid ground. Luka continues to hesitate, his mind repeating the same scolding from only a moment ago. 'She likes someone else,' It tells him, 'You need to back off.' She's aware of how he feels and has yet to say one word to him about it. She has her reasons for that. He's acutely aware that respecting that boundary is what's best. While he has no problem being by her side when his company is wanted, it's difficult to pin down just how much or how little is appropriate now.
Then again, he did just invite her back to his house to take a nap with him. Could be creepy taken out of context. 'Or maybe even in context,' his mind is kind enough to supply this critique as he tries to shake off a wince of regret at his own awkward nature. Though he has been obstinately starting down at his guitar to avoid the embarrassment meeting her eyes will bring, he is unable to resist any longer when she calls out to him. All resolve seems lost as he looks down at the girl on the street, waving a pleasant goodbye and smiling that smile that's consumed many of his thoughts since the music festival. Casting the guitar aside, he jumps up and hurries off after his friend. 'To hell with it.'
"Hang on," He calls after her, catching up after a minute, "I'll go with you."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he returns her surprised glance with a questioning look of his own. Will she tell him to go back home? He knows her to be the kind of strong-willed girl who will say it when she doesn't like something.
"Are you sure? It's kind of a long walk." These next words are not dismissive ones. Rather, she sounds more like someone worried about burdening him.
"You said yourself you've barely gotten any sleep," He takes a few steps forward, moving out ahead of her and then turning back as if to invite her to follow, "You just woke up and it'll be dark soon. I just want to make sure you get back safely."
"O-okay," Her face looks a bit red as she steps into place beside him, "Thanks again, Luka." Her smile is bashful.
The walk back to the bakery is quiet and peaceful. Very little conversation is kept between the two young people. Luka is lost in his private thoughts and knows it's quite likely that Marinette is so quiet only because she's still tired. For the most part the silence doesn't seem to put a damper on the atmosphere, so he doesn't feel any need to inject commentary into the peace of the evening. When they finally do reach her front door, he pauses for a moment, catching her eyes before she has the chance to walk away. He's normally a fairly mellow guy, but when it comes to her, he just cares so much that the anxiety of doing or saying something inappropriate is hard to quell. His companion, however, doesn't appear troubled in the slightest. She smiles and waits patiently.
"You have my number right?" He has his doubts about asking her this. He wants to try to be her friend and support her if he is able, but he doesn't want to force things too much, either. He can't even begin to know what the right way to approach these feeling is. He's never felt this way about another person before. It's rather difficult to navigate.
"I do." Her soft reply makes it clear she's picked up on his tension and is trying to be sensitive to it.
"If...you have more of those dreams and can't sleep, you can text me any time." The words come out more easily than he expected. He grins at her happily when she appears surprised to hear this news and is surprised himself as Marinette throws her arms around his shoulders, embracing him tightly. He remains still for but a second, stunned, then eagerly returns the affection. Her grip tightens momentarily.
"I've said it a ton already, but I really appreciate everything you did today Luka." She pulls back out of the hug, still smiling.
Waving to him as he turns and takes a few steps down the street, the young woman disappears inside the quiet bakery, quietly shutting the door behind her. Making his way slowly along the empty street, the thought occurs to him that there was something he forgot to say earlier in the day. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he opens the device and scrolls through his contacts until her name appears. He hesitates for only a few seconds as he feels the heat sweep across his face, then types out a quick message, pressing send before he can second guess himself. Another wave of heat washes over his face as he sees the message is delivered and read.
After another several minutes of walking, Luka climbs the gangplank back up onto the deck of the houseboat and heads directly to his cabin. Both elated and somewhat flustered by the events of this afternoon, the teenager flops down onto his bed. Stomach full of butterflies, the young musician releases a long sigh, the sound itself a mixture of a venting of anxiety and an expression of happiness. He settles in for the night, unaware that on the other side of town, Marinette is also sprawled on her bed, experiencing a very similar set of emotions to his own.
Kicking her feet in excitement and biting down on her lip, she presses the button that lights up her phone's screen and re-reads the message that has put her in this giddy state.
(Luka Coffaine 8:47pm: Just to clear it up...
in case you were wondering,
I always think you look perfect.)
She bites down on her lip as the color fills her face. It's the first time she's been given a compliment like this and she finds herself lost in the high created by his kind words. After considering it for some time since first reading the message, Marinette types out a quick reply. Flopping over onto her back next to her still slumbering kwami, the teenager plugs in her phone and closes her eyes. As had happened earlier this afternoon, the quiet atmosphere of her bedroom doesn't feel oppressive and the only thoughts taking up space in her mind are scenes that played out between her and Luka. Not a single trace of the stress present any other time she's closed her eyes for the last three weeks. Within moments of resting her head on the pillow, she drifts off into the second most peaceful slumber she's had in way too long, dreaming of the gentle sound of a particular guitarist's playing as blue high-lighted hair is caught by the breeze and water laps at the haul of the houseboat.