That's about as eloquent as he's feeling when he wakes up again, bitter that no, the good dreams didn't get to rule his head tonight. At least there's some peace to be found in his memories of that astral expanse, sometimes, but most of it is too vast, too dark, too suffocating. He dreams of places he's never been and things he's never seen, and has no explanation for why rivers of black flow through some exotic tropical jungle, or why in some other time the sky opens up and bares its teeth at the world below, and rains down a torrent that washes entire civilizations down some nameless drain.
His head's still pretty fuzzy as he blinks against the darkness and realizes two things. Chrissy isn't next to him, and he can still hear the rain. Except, no, that's the shower, isn't it? What time is it? Five AM? No wonder he can't sleep, when too often this is when he's normally heading to bed back home.
Seems odd Chrissy would get up and shower right now, though who knows what her usual is. He lies there a while longer, head stuffed into the pillow, before he becomes aware that he's pretty sure he can just make out the occasional quiet sob from the direction of the bathroom.
Ah, fuck.
Well, all right, now he has to get up and see what's wrong, because he has some aching feeling it's his fault somehow and needs to know. He blearily fumbles his way to the bathroom and knocks on the door.]
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That's about as eloquent as he's feeling when he wakes up again, bitter that no, the good dreams didn't get to rule his head tonight. At least there's some peace to be found in his memories of that astral expanse, sometimes, but most of it is too vast, too dark, too suffocating. He dreams of places he's never been and things he's never seen, and has no explanation for why rivers of black flow through some exotic tropical jungle, or why in some other time the sky opens up and bares its teeth at the world below, and rains down a torrent that washes entire civilizations down some nameless drain.
His head's still pretty fuzzy as he blinks against the darkness and realizes two things. Chrissy isn't next to him, and he can still hear the rain. Except, no, that's the shower, isn't it? What time is it? Five AM? No wonder he can't sleep, when too often this is when he's normally heading to bed back home.
Seems odd Chrissy would get up and shower right now, though who knows what her usual is. He lies there a while longer, head stuffed into the pillow, before he becomes aware that he's pretty sure he can just make out the occasional quiet sob from the direction of the bathroom.
Ah, fuck.
Well, all right, now he has to get up and see what's wrong, because he has some aching feeling it's his fault somehow and needs to know. He blearily fumbles his way to the bathroom and knocks on the door.]
Chrissy? You okay?