A night persistent in keeping me awake wrought only the worst to torment me from dream's flight. When I closed my eyes, I would see nothing but grey, disgusting visisons of deformed faces, brought to mock. My body sweated. I felt disgustingly ill. And nothing I did, save for bashing my head into the wall enough times to render me unconscious, would bring me sleep. I threw the blanket to the ground, tossed and tired, held a pillow over my face. Nothing. Nothing at all. Silent, tormenting nothings. The only light in this nothing was the one from the fish above my head, sleeping so well, a bright red from the esca. Enough was enough.
I threw my body from the bed to the ground, with a loud thud to accompany such act, and opened my eyes against from the faces that stared and said nothing. My legs sought themselves up, only to stumble towards the door, open, and run. Silent night, with only the whispering of anyone awake with no lights to accompany them. Or was that them? Down and out. Running. Still sweating, a fog over my head, reaching towards safety. Up the stairs to sacred place I went, now feeling more than nothing. Maybe nothing would've been better than that empty motivation, that fear. Running, throwing the door of the temple open and then shut, and going even further than that. If I was seen, I would be surely taken. Entering sacred place without permit was a sin, and I was always the sinner anyways. God help me.
Silence became my tattered feet on a glass floor, and the desperate knocks on the door of the priest. I do not remember what I screamed as alert, but my voice sounded wretched and torn apart. Eventually, those screams were answered, with that alarm settling down at even the sight of a tired lady facing down at me. She wore a nightgown that didn't cover her thighs entirely, only half. Scandalous. Cute legs, chubby. Edible, even. If she was not a holy woman who I had never wed but sure acted like I did, I would say even worse of her visible body.
Mocha Ray simply hushed me, took me inside with an arm around my shoulder and a voice that could lull anyone into relaxation. We set off towards a rather low bed, with her letting me enter first. I remained blanketless, just laying and facing the ceiling, feeling like I was fished right out of hell itself. She had already taken that thin blanket for herself. A plain room it was, lamp, drawers, but not a lot of things she could call herself. Not a lot of materials, but a few trinkets here and there, mostly hidden. A closet at the other end of the room.
Her arm wrapped around me once more, bringing me closer to her warm body. Her body -- warm. Soft. Like a mother I never had, but a lover more. A lover I could never directly declare a love for. But here we were, acting like lovers. Her height rendered my head in a rather...unintentionally inappropiate place, but that sure was enough to bring me the feeling of safety I needed. It lulled me down, tired me, brought a sense of hope and love and warmth around my cold body that I could never ask for elsewhere ever again. Slowly, my own claw wrapped itself around her, too. Other claw was at home, or else it would've been both.