Priest-De Ulloa Household, Notting Hill, London. Late Tuesday Night/Early Weds Morning.

[icecoldfrost]

It was another dream that had startled Emma awake with a jerk, her iron control the only thing that kept her from screaming as she did so. It took a moment to regain her bearings, and then she slipped out of bed, quietly making her way to the kitchen for a glass of water to take back upstairs with her.

She was as quiet as possible as she put the drink on the nightstand and climbed back into bed, one of her trashy mystery novels in-hand. Emma didn't want to wake Jack, but it was unlikely she was going to be falling back asleep anytime soon.

[OOC: For that one, please!]

Comments

[bitten_notshy]

"Lock myself in a cellar," Jack confirmed. "Possibly start wearing tin foil hats. But I like having the one of you."