Reflections of Light

Phantasmagorical

Nyx gaped, wide eyed, voice attempting to formulate more than single syllables.

"... What...?"

She swayed slightly, head spinning from exhaustion and getting up so quickly.

She raised a hand to her forehead, pushing her curls back off of her sweaty forehead, her skin suddenly feeling very hot.

"Shh. It's alright." He'd crossed the room in a second she hadn't seen, and was guiding her back down, not actually touching, just reaching out for her.

Going to lie back, she suddenly realised what a compromising position that could be, and ended up stopping awkwardly halfway, propping herself up on her elbows, breathing hard through her mouth.

She swallowed, hard.

"Uh... What... Are you... doing here?"

She suddenly realised what she must sound like with a hangover.

Not exactly the strong, confident way she'd have liked to have sounded if she'd ever had to face him again.

"Well... I came here to see you." He crouched next to her, lessening the intimidation of him standing above her, and then increasing it again by just crossing the line into too close.

Shivers ran up and down her spine, although whether bad or good, she couldn't quite tell.

He smiled softly at her, tilting his head and drinking in her face with his eyes.

She adverted her gaze, in an attempt to collect some cohesive thoughts.

"Um.. Uh... What happened?"

Gee, she definitely wasn't winning points for the most creative questions tonight.
Also, her vocal chords didn't seem to be coordinating with the idea that she and him hadn't parted on the best of terms, and was still pretty ticked off with him, to say the least.

Well, she could always be pissed at him in a moment when she had a bit more energy for it.

Important stuff first.

"I mean, like..."

He chuckled quietly. "I've been... Around. Here and there."

His hand was slowly creeping towards hers, his eyes seeking hers as he ever-so-gently brushed his fingers over hers, brushing soothingly over her knuckles, light as a feather.

Nyx scrubbed at her eyes, finding her limbs increasingly heavy, eyelids drooping no matter how hard she struggled against it.

She chuckled slightly, a little sardonical hysteria creeping into her voice at her own reactions to everything.

Everything felt hazy, felt phantasmagorical.

But it was kind of nice, peaceful even, the dream feeling warm and enclosed around her as she drifted.

Gentle but firm hands pushed her down, back onto the mattress, fingers trailing upwards to trace her neck, her face, burying his fingers in her hair and stroking her cheek with his thumb, tracing down her cheekbone and then to brush the corner of her lips.

"Shh, go to sleep. It's alright, I'm here."

Sliding her tired eyes closed, she obeyed the soothing, velvet - toned voice, settling back into her pillow with a tired sigh, letting the darkness of sleep finally take her.

And upon awakening in the morning, found that the dream had gone, blown away by the dawn as of it had never been.

Phantasmagorical is now my new favourite word.
Seriously, any books I write in the future, I'm going to find an excuse to use it.
Thanks, Google!

Also, I've been snowed in the past few days. Brr.
Fun though, because it's snow!