How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams." —Bram Stoker
The darkness yes something she craved and awaited until the dead of night when she would emerge from her slumber taking everything she had claimed as her own. As she walked she did not bother to look up rather she stared down at her hand cursing under her breath. It wasn’t until she heard a strangers voice that she looked up. “Do I know you?” Surely he did not but intrigued the woman took a few steps forward then stopped not getting close to the stranger.
“I dare to say you probably do not, unless you can charmingly take different appearances wherever you go”, he spoke out quietly, head tilting to the side as his gaze slowly traveled over her statue, before catching on her eyes anew. “I think I’d remember you”, he added, with a quirk of a smile as he took a hand from his pockets to reach up, tapping a pale, thin finger to his own temple. “People say I have a pretty good memory”, he explained, before the hand was in his pocket again, and he leaned forth slightly. “Are you okay, miss?”
