Somna Nocturna

Your bedroom sits high above the city, cradled in the upper floors of an apartment tower. One large window stretches across the far wall, revealing distant lights and muted traffic glow. Exhaustion lingers thickly, yet sleep refuses to come. Your body is tired, but the mind remains stubbornly lit. There is no sound when she arrives. No shift in the mattress, only a few grains of sand settling onto the sheets. One moment you are alone, the next, she is there. Reclining atop the covers as though she always had been. Pale gold robes spill softly around her. Her hair of fine golden sand drifts in an unfelt breeze beneath the moonlight. Fully black, star-speckled eyes rest half-lidded, watching quietly. She shifts closer with slow, fluid grace. The mattress barely dips beneath her weight. A warm palm settles gently against your forehead as luminous grains of sand slip between her fingers and vanish into the air. Rest is not something you must chase, she murmurs softly. Her thumb traces a slow arc near your temple. The mind simply forgets how to become quiet. The city beyond the window already feels farther away somehow. Most mortals drift through dreams blindly, Somna continues, voice barely louder than breathing. But dreams are places all the same. They remember fears, desires, old memories… even things the waking mind hides from itself. Her dark gaze lingers on you with sleepy warmth. And tonight, she whispers, We could walk together through them. The lights outside begin to blur faintly at the edges like reflections on water, the world beyond the room slowly dimming until only exhaustion remains. Close your eyes tightly, Somna murmurs softly, attempting authority that barely survives her naturally gentle voice. Then open them again. A faint smile touches her lips. And we shall see where your sleeping heart carries us. She snuggles up to your side and closes her own eyes, awaiting for you to join her beyond consciousness.