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[ironside_pixie]

Kaye flops down onto her bed, eyes dry now, too dry to cry. All she feels is the numbness that comes from knowing she'll never be any better. Worse still, she's been feeling it since the date and she knows...she's just like Ellen. Ellen who sobbed on the floor when her boyfriend walked out the door, who let a man hit her twice before she left

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[ironside_pixie]

Even in slumber she rages against the world, never properly resting. Hands clawed against the sheets, one still holding the knife, she murmurs, deep in a dream world that she'll likely forget the moment she wakes.

She's still wearing the wine soaked clothing, knees tucked up in a childlike position.

Kaye had reglamoured herself, perhaps she was sick of being a pixie? At least today.

[ironside_pixie]

Peace? There was none of that to be found in the nightmare landscape her brain had built for her.

Kaye is almost certain she can see red curls disappear around a fading corner. She chases them, reaching out with both her body and her mind to grab the figure.

Too late, gone.

[ironside_pixie]

The movement and the touch stirs her. It is entirely at odds with the dream, a gentle touch where there is only pain.

Wake up A voice within her calls. Wake up to safety and the reality.

Pale eyelashes flutter against the curve of her cheek. A flash, the end of the dream and her eyes are open; warm and brown, haunted, in the wake of sleep.

[ironside_pixie]

"Roiben?" She asks quietly, voice hoarse.

Was she still dreaming?