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ManaIt was late. Or it might have been early. Truthfully, the Nyssa wasn't certain what was the turning point in which one ended and the other began. Regardless of how you looked at it though: it was an ungodly hour.
She had attempted sleep... Several times. After hours of tossing and turning, the young woman had given up any hope, and had instead descended to the bar on the main floor. The lights were low, and for the most part the room was, at least to Nyssa's knowledge unoccupied, other than the bartender, and herself, who was draped across her portion of the counter.
She twirled a glass between her palms: a cup of warm milk, which had been nursed until it was no longer warm: the three sips remaining intended only to serve as a reminder that when she was done she should likely drag her body back up to bed... again. She avoided the sips like poison.
Silence had long settled between the two beings. The girl had gotten over feverish fear of speaking to the man when she had ordered, and had engaged him in conversation. However, the small talk that even the weather: a soft drizzle that had lasted since early afternoon-- provided didn't last long enough to put the young woman to sleep, or to keep the bartender distracted to his duties.
Instead they remained content in their silence: the presence of the other enough to satiate one another's misery. Nyssa begrudgingly nodded back one of the sips of milk: finding little to occupy herself with instead. With the placement of the cup on the counter, she let out a sigh, removing her hands from the glass, and instead cradling her face with her palms.
Golden orbs pressed closed against the caress of her hand. Her breath steadied, as remained propped up by her elbows. She counted the seconds between inhales, attempting to entrance herself in some sleep-like state.
She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting like that, uncertain if she had fallen asleep or not-- when her attention was tugged. Golden eyes fluttered open, searching for the presence that she thought (perhaps imagined?) she had sensed.
She had attempted sleep... Several times. After hours of tossing and turning, the young woman had given up any hope, and had instead descended to the bar on the main floor. The lights were low, and for the most part the room was, at least to Nyssa's knowledge unoccupied, other than the bartender, and herself, who was draped across her portion of the counter.
She twirled a glass between her palms: a cup of warm milk, which had been nursed until it was no longer warm: the three sips remaining intended only to serve as a reminder that when she was done she should likely drag her body back up to bed... again. She avoided the sips like poison.
Silence had long settled between the two beings. The girl had gotten over feverish fear of speaking to the man when she had ordered, and had engaged him in conversation. However, the small talk that even the weather: a soft drizzle that had lasted since early afternoon-- provided didn't last long enough to put the young woman to sleep, or to keep the bartender distracted to his duties.
Instead they remained content in their silence: the presence of the other enough to satiate one another's misery. Nyssa begrudgingly nodded back one of the sips of milk: finding little to occupy herself with instead. With the placement of the cup on the counter, she let out a sigh, removing her hands from the glass, and instead cradling her face with her palms.
Golden orbs pressed closed against the caress of her hand. Her breath steadied, as remained propped up by her elbows. She counted the seconds between inhales, attempting to entrance herself in some sleep-like state.
She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting like that, uncertain if she had fallen asleep or not-- when her attention was tugged. Golden eyes fluttered open, searching for the presence that she thought (perhaps imagined?) she had sensed.
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