[Completed] Amira is a human who finds herself thrust into a world she doesn't know. Once she wakes up in the strange town of Woling, she has to fight to regain the memories of the evils she committed in order to keep her past from destroying everyt...
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Dying isn't all that bad sometimes.
When you die for the hundredth time, that's when things get a little stale.
You look for something to shake it up, to add a little spice to the monotonous routine that has plagued your dreams for the past two hundred and twelve days.
Two hundred and twelve days. Nearly seven months. I haven't gotten a good night's rest in almost seven months.
This means that Axle also hasn't gotten a peaceful night either, too preoccupied with soothing me when I wake up screaming and terrorizing the entire house with my screams of bloody murder.
The residents of this house would probably be so relieved if one of these nights I was actually being murdered because that would mean that they hadn't woken up in vain at least.
But nope. It's always just me.
Traumatized, snarky little Amira couldn't sleep well once again. Maybe she should try melatonin? Or a gag? A nice warm cup of tea laced with a tranquilizer?
Tonight I refused to close my eyes, fighting off the itching desire to sleep as the soft snores of Axle lulled me into a heavy sense of security. He slept deeply, but because we hadn't finished the bond he also slept fitfully.
Any loud noise, tug of the blankets that we shared, or prickling spidey senses would send him jolting awake with gold eyes scanning the room for threats. It was always me who woke him up and I couldn't possibly feel worse about it. So tonight I wouldn't sleep.
I didn't like to dream anyways if they could even be counted as dreams. They were warped, abstract pickings from my memories and flashes of things that I swear I had never seen, that didn't look like anything in my world or the one I was thrust into.
The blankets shifted softly as I rolled onto my side, resting my head carefully on Axle's bicep to watch as his stomach steadily rose and fell. It's funny, I always hated the sound of snoring, still kind of do. But I don't know if I would be able to fall asleep without it. Not that I wanted to sleep anyway.
Alba was down the hall in her own room, I could imagine how she was burrowed up underneath a fort of blankets with a flashlight consuming books like they were her life force. Emma slept downstairs when she wasn't wreaking havoc out in a club in town, 'she's young, let her live' I would say. 'It's dangerous, I want her to live' Axle would respond. Cara and Crion had taken a hiatus from their positions on The Council and were sleeping on the floor above us, they spent nearly every waking moment attached at the hip doing Gods only know what in the library and study.
'Research' sometimes got a little gross and noisy.
I had certainly grown closer to Cara, it was weird actually having a sister. My entire life, I thought she hated me. I hated her, or at least I really wanted to hate her, just to show that I could do it too. But now.. she was trying to be a big sister, filling me in on all of the things I forgot about mom and dad. Micromanaging everything I did down to how I made my tea, Axle said that that was just what siblings were like.
