*Esma*
When I awake, my first thought is that I've slept, amazingly a deep dreamless sleep. My second is that I'm alone in the bed, but not alone in the room. I sense his presence before I locate him sitting in a chair by the window, the lamp nearby providing him with sufficient light to read the journal in his lap.
Although only his profile is visible to me, I can detect the deep furrow in his brow as he absorbs my sister’s account of her life and time in Blackrock city. With his elbow perched on the arm of the chair, providing support, he holds his chin, his forefinger stroking just below his lower lip, a lip I have an urgent desire to nibble upon.
Beyond the window, the dark of night still hovers. The storm is dying down, the rain a softer patter, the wind a quieter moan.
I study J
