I dream of wayward gulls and rare moments of winter sun

[mycursedface]

Medusa and sleep are two things that often do not get along. Even if her dreams are free of nightmares now (and isn't she glad of that - even when she didn't wake up screaming, she'd be whimpering and moaning and causing a scene) it's still...
I walked beside the evening sea
Strange.
And dreamed a dream that could not be;
She mostly sleeps during the day, when it's safe. She sleeps with her arms curled around Sam's pillow when she can't get Sam himself, face buried and snakes lying this way and that. Tangled up in the sheets, wings out, and for such a small person, Medusa takes up a lot of room.

The waves that plunged along the shore
And she dreams. She dreams of the ocean that is her home, of the cliffs and clouds. She dreams of the waves giggling with the voices of her sisters and she dreams of her triplets in the new and empty world in which they'd been born. She dreams of babbling in their own language and trying to pull Stheno's hair as Euryale aims for her feet and-

Said only: "Dreamer, dream no more!"
And when she wakes up, blearily shoving the pillow onto the ground, she can't remember anything. Dreams are like that, sometimes.

Comments

[mycursedface]

"Yes, I do." She sucks sauce off a finger, and looks innocent.

[necessary_child]

Sam is, perhaps, paying undue attention to that finger.

"Oh. Good."

[mycursedface]

"Be a shame not knowing you, after living with you for about two months, and all."

Her tone is just the tiniest bit dry.

[necessary_child]

Brightly, "It would. It's always a shame, not knowing me."

[mycursedface]

And if there is one thing Medusa has learned, it's that there never is a good come-back to that. So she just grins at him, and doesn't try.