[This post is from J.T.’s point of view.]
“I’ve been having dreams again,” J.T. murmured to Leinth as they reached the far end of the bridge. Until that point, the pair had moved in companionable silence after leaving Rory by the fire. Each of them carried a mug of something steaming—the last of an early batch of coffee for J.T., a mug of tea for Leinth—along as they made what at least appeared to be a leisurely stroll south toward the barrow.
“What sort of dreams?” She asked quietly. “The kind you told me about before? Those ones?”
He grunted softly and nodded. “The ones I don’t like talking about.”
“Have you seen her again?”
J.T.’s lips thinned and he stayed silent for a few minutes as they walked along the plaza, past the blue arch that swayed silently in the summer wind. “Yes,” he finally said as they were halfway to their destination, outside of the ruins of the library at the center of campus. “That’s why I needed to talk to you this morning.”
“So that’s why we’re taking this walk,” Leinth said, her voice slow and soft. “I wondered.”
“Well, now you know,” J.T. muttered, then scrubbed a hand over his face. He took a long, slow sip of coffee. “I have to figure out a way to tell Carolyn if she hasn’t already figured out what I’m dreaming about. She already knows I’m dreaming. She’s woken me a couple of times and thank god that she did because I don’t know what the hell I’d have done if she hadn’t.”
“She’s good for you,” Leinth said softly, crossing her arms against her chest even as she sipped at her tea. Her gaze focused distantly, tracking something that J.T. couldn’t quite see, wasn’t sure he wanted to see. She was older than he was, in years and in the world they’d settled into. She’d always been able to see the strangeness.
This was all still at least a little new to him.
“Too good, I sometimes think,” J.T. murmured. Leinth grinned.
“Perhaps, but you’ve chosen each other and that’s what matters.”
That, at least, was heartening.
