During the day, he had been almost too much aware of Ellevera's presence, a stranger in his life that hadn't been there before. He'd been relieved too, to have his isolation over at last, but it was always like this with ghosts. It was probably a remnant from his childhood, when he hadn't understood what was going on or how to deal with the things that he saw. Ghosts were for the most part nothing for him to be afraid of anymore, but he still felt a certain... something, which made it impossible to fully relax around them. But in this case, he was too tired to care. As soon as his head hit the pillow, all the weariness of the trip came with it. It was a late hour, and he had to be awake in six hours to get the bread going and start on the cinnamon rolls. It wasn't a time to be worrying about ghosts, even if they were in the room with you. Even if they were the spirit of some kind of mystical being that might have something to do with his best friend.
Blake drifted off into a blissfully dreamless sleep, lulled by familiar surroundings and Alain's impeccable tastes in mattresses.
[end]
