[ Sick and shaking, his breathing is shallow, the taste of panic lodged in the back of his throat. There's a change in weight that he feels aware of, the familiar impression of Kalmiya's perfume soaking into his lungs with every sharp inhale. For a few moments, he lets himself tilt in her direction across the tether, focuses on taking deeper lungfuls of sweet floral and fruit. Out of the tether, he stares at the rumple of sheets; they look nothing like a rocky shoreline or the pitch dark pull of the ocean at night.
Between those two grounding senses, he can feel the chaotic spin of his thoughts start to slow.
And then immediately climb, as Kalmiya reassures him it was a dream. Letting out a wounded noise, he uncurls himself and reaches for the side table almost instinctively, fingers coming in contact with the red acrylic die. Hands still trembling, he's careful as he rolls it thrice in succession, the weighted plastic making a soft click sound against the tabletop. Three white pips stare back at him for each result and he lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, eyes burning from the flood of emotion.
Releasing the die, he flops onto his pillow, pressing the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. ]
It's never just a dream. [ He finally says, a little hysterically. Like this, with the dream hovering so close in memory, with his eyes squeezed shut, he thinks he can still feel the warmth of Mal's palm against his cheek as she told him she missed him. That they needed to wake up. Blinked away tears on either side track down from the corners of his eyes towards his temples. Stupid, he was stupid for not listening to Kalmiya earlier. ]
You were right. I shouldn't have—can I—[ Swallowing, he tries again, thoughts jumbled and voice raw. ]—is that invite still open?
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Between those two grounding senses, he can feel the chaotic spin of his thoughts start to slow.
And then immediately climb, as Kalmiya reassures him it was a dream. Letting out a wounded noise, he uncurls himself and reaches for the side table almost instinctively, fingers coming in contact with the red acrylic die. Hands still trembling, he's careful as he rolls it thrice in succession, the weighted plastic making a soft click sound against the tabletop. Three white pips stare back at him for each result and he lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, eyes burning from the flood of emotion.
Releasing the die, he flops onto his pillow, pressing the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. ]
It's never just a dream. [ He finally says, a little hysterically. Like this, with the dream hovering so close in memory, with his eyes squeezed shut, he thinks he can still feel the warmth of Mal's palm against his cheek as she told him she missed him. That they needed to wake up. Blinked away tears on either side track down from the corners of his eyes towards his temples. Stupid, he was stupid for not listening to Kalmiya earlier. ]
You were right. I shouldn't have—can I—[ Swallowing, he tries again, thoughts jumbled and voice raw. ]—is that invite still open?