‘Want me to take them away?’ she offered. Her tone was light, but something in it wasn’t.
The offer made me pause. ‘You can do that?’
A wicked smile crossed her face. ‘Did you even listen when I said I control nightmares? But I can’t put anything else in their place if that’s all you dream of. You won’t dream at all.’
The concept of dreamless nights sounded horrible. ‘Would that affect me?’
‘Not necessarily, but I believe bad dreams help release pent-up emotions. I wouldn’t want mine taken away, even if they’re unpleasant.’
‘Why did you offer then?’ I asked dumbfounded.
‘It’s your choice.’ She shrugged, looking surprised, and I wondered if something was up with her.
‘I will keep them for now; we can revisit this conversation another time if they’re persistent… Are you drunk, Miriam?’
The grey-haired troublemaker shrugged again. ‘Tipsy. Has what you dreamt about bothered you before?’
‘Not really, I honestly have no idea why I dreamt of it. It’s a situation from my past but altered,’ I admitted as my mind wandered to the actual cemetery incident with River. There was no point overthinking it, he thought I was evil back then.
Miriam smiled before lying on her back next to me, braiding her grey waves. ‘Dreams don’t always have a meaning, no matter how hard humans believe so. Honestly, how their unfounded ideas made it all the way to fae lands is beyond me.’
Note to self: the girl was a calm drunk but had no respect for personal space. Or lost her understanding of it, since she now flailed her arms around me, her pristine manicure reflecting the small light coming from the bedside lamp. Like a moth, she observed these reflections, enthralled by their beauty.
It was nice, but not that nice.
‘Why did you watch me sleep, by the way?’ I asked.
‘That’s creepy, no? I didn’t watch you sleep, Ava,’ she giggled, switching to lay on her side and facing me. ‘I just jumped back from the search with your mate’s little bothersome brother.’
Huh, interesting. ‘Okay. How did it go?’
‘You’re friends?’ she asked and mockingly gagged, wiggling her eyebrows. ‘With that buffoon?’
Gods. Another conflict between the people I cared for was just what I needed. ‘Yeah, I am.’
She shot up, looking appalled. ‘How? He’s the most infuriating male I have ever met.’
‘That bad?’
‘He insists on embarrassing me every chance he gets.' A soft whine escaped her alongside a barely noticeable burp. ‘And when I blush at his scandalous remarks, he doubles down. Who does that?’
He really must have got under her skin. ‘Ha. Michael does that. It’s how he is. What did he say to make you blush?’
Crossing her arms, she shook her head so much I feared she'd have a concussion. ‘That’s beside the point. I just needed to vent.’
Okay, then. ‘Did he just start antagonising you out of nowhere?’
‘I might have provoked him but only after he started giving me serious puritan vibes. What a freak,’ Miriam groaned, reaching for my cup and downing the chamomile.
Thank the Gods; when I got back, I got rid of the hot chocolate that had stayed there for three days. It started to grow a disgusting, thick layer at the top.
‘Michael isn’t a puritan,’ I assured her. ‘How did you even provoke him?’
‘I called him a boy,’ she cackled so adorably I couldn’t cope.
‘That would do it.’ That innocent and feisty expression of hers made me laugh. So full of contradictions. ‘If I’ve learnt anything about fire males, it’s that they’re ridiculously proud about being caring, but mostly strong and vicious.’
‘So?’ she snapped.
