It wasn’t like she was really expecting anything at first..

Book perched in her lap as a lazy hand turned the page. Even though she could admit that the first installment of this series caught her attention like a moth to the flame— Asha truly believed that this sequel was utterly lacking. (Either that, or she was just used to the action of the fight scene that the first book closed on.)He had seemed to have passed out on the couch a little ways across of her; not that she minded all that much. This was one of the extra rooms in the Pandora Headquarters. Typically, when something like that occurred, it means that whoever was sleeping was just too tired to go home or go to their assigned room.

A brow quirked from the mumbling, eyes not taking themselves from the words that had bored and lured her. He’s probably dreaming of something vivid.. After all, she was known for mumbling some odd things in her sleep. Most of them involved salamanders for some odd reason.

There was a sigh that passed through her nose— the chapter having ended on a more dreary note. Honestly, it was going to have to get better than this, lest she puts the novel down and keep it there until it collected dust. The noises and mumbles had grown since they first were coming forth from the noirette. It caused a bit of disturbance from her end, placing the bookmark in its place and closing the piece of literature. Brows knitted together, noticing right away that something was wrong with him. That concern growing until cried out

                                                   Help me—!!

Now was the time that she responded to the cry out for help, getting up at once to place her hand on his shoulder; a light shake, as a means to snap him out of whatever fear he was experiencing,
“Gilbert-!”

[[ Sorry I used his name even though they haven’t exchanged names yet. ;;  I didn’t want the timelines of our threads to clash. ]]

What time was it ?

               Where was he ?

Thoughts had collected rapidly within his mind, pounding his head as if to break the innermost of his skull. They whirred around, incessant and unnecessarily disturbing his line of thought. Head of noir made the dire attempt to grip the ends of consciousness, still not aware of the current situation at hand. These bonafide sentiments, screeches of ultrasonic pain, ones unable to be processed. Breathing had been sped, throat felt throttled with the incapability of respiration. 

                                       Did he want to know ?

What he was dreaming about ?

What he had woken up to had frightened him, as if his whole anatomy had been pulled from comatose state. Eyelids broadened as if to verify his petrification, irises blinded by the mixture of scenarios that had bombarded him from sleep. There was no promise of return for the young man, who had been staring at the opposing with the eyes of a child who would seek immediate comfort.

Sudden epiphany.

No time to register.