I froze, holding my breath.
A long moment passed. Two. I exhaled.
“You sprites better leave me alone. Fates. I’m still mad at you.” My voice was muffled through the pillow.
Nothing. The movement didn’t feel like a sprite, with their bright, delicate, barely-there magic…
Maybe I was imagining things again. It was probably just the blanket settling over me.
But… my feet felt cold in the open air. I wasn’t under the blanket…
I’m going to throw up.Right here, under this pillow.
I didn’t move a single muscle. My ears perked, straining to hear any sounds in the still, quiet morning. The only sound was my strangled breathing, scraping in and out of my chest.
I remained frozen for what felt like minutes. Hours. Eons. And then eventually, I heard a quiet rustling… coming from the sheets right beside me on the bed.
Fuckingfuck.
My heart hammered in my chest, pounding so hard I was surprised it didn’t burst free. I mentally tallied my options.
One, I could keep laying here like a little bitch, pretending not to notice the other presence in the room even though I was clearly awake and had already blown my cover by speaking.
Two, I could whirl around and attack whatever beast was in bed with me with whatever spell I could muster and hope I was stronger than it was.
Three, I could cry and pray to the Old Gods that I might drop dead or something before having to face this problem.
Unfortunately, two was my best option.
Old Gods, if you can hear me, please burn my stash of smutty books if I die. Or at least don’t let Mayor Tommins find them.
I took a deep, quivering inhale.
And then Iattacked.
I screamed as I flipped my body over, gripping my pillow like my life depended on it and absolutely walloping the bed beside me.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
I was prepared to inflict a death blow with my beloved pillow.
Feathers plumed in the air, billowing around me and settling onto the sheets.
I kept swinging.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
I couldn’t even think of any spells to save me, I simply swung the pillow like a weapon.
My voice crumbled beneath the screams I was forcing out, and eventually I quieted.
And then I stopped swinging.
My forehead glistened with sweat, and I could hardly hear over my pulse pounding in my ears. All I could see in the bed beside me was… nothing. Nothing except for a slight bulge under the covers.
Gathering any crumbs of courage I had left in me, I gripped the blanket and yanked it off the bed, immediately brandishing a pillow again to defend myself.
The blanket settled onto the floor with a quiet whoosh.
