Reincarnated - A Solitary Love

Chapter 18 - Bumpy Steps of a Drowsy Wake

I woke up…against my own will.

A sleepy hand, crawling over the bedding,  searched for the end of the blankets, also known as the Outside and also known as Reality. When it finally freed itself from their somnolent embrace, cold, breezy air eagerly welcomed it. 
The hand was even more eager than the air… to retreat into the lullabies' cave.

It took me a good, looong while to understand that I would not be able to go back to sleep. 
Moments also spent gloating in my re-found sight, after remembering the "adventures" of the past day.
I blinked a couple times, hoping for the dream to be reality, and thankfully it did not go away.

I could see again.

Oh…

I inhaled a generous quantity of air, opened my mouth…hesitated a moment in worry of potential mutism…then counted.

One,
Two,
Three.

"Aaaaaaaa…."
Sound came out. My mouth worked as intended as well.

Oh Lord…
Fucking finally.

"I'd say this is the first time I've missed this voice…not that I had it for long."

It still felt weird, coming out of my mouth.
It was like it was not me talking…but someone within me.

Ohh quit it. 

Returning to the…'bedding' matters , that thing remained a crime against any wannabe laborious person.
Gifting it the name of Cloud's Softness was no exaggeration, especially after one entire week in the wilderness.

I grabbed the enormous blankets, steeled myself as much as I could, then…threw them away.

The siege of the morning breeze lasted a couple of seconds, terrible as they were, while I propelled myself to my clothes, left abandoned on the ground.

Do not misunderstand me, they were anything but warmth -and I had the fervent desire to trash them at the first opportunity for how dirty they felt after all those days- but, at the very least, they covered most of the skin…aaand it's not like I had many alternatives.

Dressed up, I grabbed my hair, which was surprisingly in a decent state,  and passed my free fingers through its length. 
An annoying while later, because of how many and how long they were, I managed to 'gently' untie all the inevitable knots.

I really need to ask them for a hairdresser…or anything similar to it.

"But…before that…"
I could finally take a shot at fixing this disastrous 'beginning'...if they would fall for my words…which was not something I gave for granted. That crazy fighter maid was outright terrifying.

I walked to the basket full of water, apparently the substitute of bathroom sinks, and splashed my face a couple of times.
Two towels stood close to it, one already used, reafy for necessities.

While I was drying myself up, I went through all the key-points of my 'background', re-telling all the clear, precise 'memories' and, more importantly, all the vague ones.
It being mostly fake, I couldn't be accurate on places, times or people. 
I had a few names up my sleeve, in case they were needed, but I'd rather keep everything in the fog of the eyes of a traumatized runaway child.

Wrying both towels -I didn't do it last night-, I tried my hardest not to drench me or the furniture.
I stared at the last droplets, fighting with all they got to stay attached to that piece of textile.
They fell.

…

I walked back to the bed, forcibly sitting on the uncovered part, far away from the alluring blankets.