Gemotions

He had woken up with a start, the remnants of a disturbing dream clinging to him. He could still feel the phantom sensation of his heart racing. He'd sat up in bed, his gaze drifting over to her.

She was asleep, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He watched her for a while, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest the only sound. He had heard her speaking the language in her sleep, too, he realized.

He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her. He needed some space. He pulled on his robe and headed into the living room, where the walls seemed to be closing in around him.