As he hung in the void between sleep and waking, William was sure he could hear voices. But, as he became more aware of his surroundings, the voices faded and grew quiet.
"I've been dreaming, haven't I?" he murmured.
A soft hand caressed his face. "Good." Hearing the voice - clear, feminine, alluring - brought William to his senses. Next to him in the bed was a young woman. She had red hair and freckles, and was holding the bedsheet tight against her body. William tried to remember what had happened the night before. "Did we - ?" The question hung in the air.
"My name is Eleanor. The red-head extended a hand towards William. "My close friends call me Elle. We met last night - remember?" Then she laughed. It filled the bedroom with the sound of glass bells.
William felt the blood rise to his face in confused embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to - ."
Eleanor hushed him with a finger to his lips. "I know exactly what you want. You made it perfectly plain to me and Gweneth last night."
"Gweneth?" William looked around his bedroom in panic. Was Gweneth the one he had heard Eleanor speaking to while he had been half-asleep?
"Don't worry. Gweneth isn't here. She's left us alone. I told her we needed some 'alone time'."
William's anxiety subsided. "So ... ?" He reached out to Eleanor, hoping to pull her closer; but she rolled away, giggling.
"No, you silly billy." Eleanor pointed towards the dressing table at the foot of the bed. On it was William's notebook - open at a blank page - and his favourite pen. "If you want some more of me -," Eleanor wriggled suggestively, "- then you have to woo me with sweet words." Her left leg uncurled swiftly, kicking William out of the bed and onto the cold bedroom floor. "Go on. I'll be here. Waiting."
Obediently, William sat down at the dressing table and picked up his pen.
