Aittera sat bolt upright in the dim light of her bedroom, suddenly and completely awake. Her hair was matted with sweat, and judging from the condition of the blanket, she'd been wrestling with it in the moments before the vision of a Sith's armor beside an Imperial Admiral's uniform drove her from sleep.
Unlike the last, this dream had been vivid, and every detail assaulted her conscious thought. Clearly, whatever Skye had done to protect her mind from Kol's - Ragious, damnit! - influence was failing her. It was the only explanation, because even the idea that she could dream that sense of - excitement? thrill? - contentment to command the dreadnought that was to replace the one she and Selus had destroyed was unconscionable. Blue eyes scanned the dark space around her, peering into the corners of the room.
"If you're here, don't. Just...go." The dangerous edge in her voice was unmistakable. This was not going to end with what passed for a pleasant conversation between them, and that seductive reasoning he was so capable of would only make matters worse. If he had been drawn to her again, he was smart enough to heed the warning, as there was no sign of him.
It wasn't her dream, and somehow, she was aware of that, but that was not a comforting thought as it had been when he'd admitted the last was a result of thinking about her while he was with someone else. This was about her specifically, and the romantic overtones combined with the feelings suggested on both their parts was unthinkable.
She untangled the blanket and pulled it back into place as she laid down again, but she didn't fall back to sleep. Instead, she spent the next few hours contemplating the unthinkable.
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