A voice, sharp and impatient, pierced through the fog in my mind.
"Noah! It's nine already, wake up!"
Something small and surprisingly strong shook my shoulders.
I grunted, forcing my eyes open to the blurry sight of white hair and narrowed black eyes staring down at me.
Pixie stood with her hands on her back, looking every bit like a scolding mother despite being barely fourteen.
I blinked, my body aching as I forced myself upright on the sofa.
My limbs felt heavier than usual, as if exhaustion had sunk into my very bones.
The nightmares clung to me, leaving my breath shallow and my fingers trembling.
The dream… No, the memory.
I ran a hand through my tangled, white hair, pressing my palm against my forehead. The images still burned behind my eyes.
The rain.
The blood.
Pixie's screams.
She had been so broken then… and yet, since the moment she arrived here?
The girl had been nothing short of smiles.
Hmph*
This dumb kitten I swear to god.
