"come on, thereโs something youโre not telling me." (For Layla!)
It wasn't often that Layla came across something in her line of work that rattled her. She'd been able to see ghosts since she was a child, and she'd done in everything in her power to learn and hone her gifts since then. Much like Arlo, she'd traveled the world searching for knowledge--although, perhaps, she hadn't sacrificed quite as much to obtain hers. Layla was free-spirited, but she was cautious when it came to the supernatural. She knew from experience that you had to be very careful which doors you knocked on.
Naturally, their similar interests and travels had drawn them together a time or two over the years. She considered him a kind of kindred spirit, someone who was as aware as she was of the otherworld and not frightened by it. Her fingers curled through his, seeking the comfort of physical contact while the dregs of her nightmare still lingered over her. Her dreams weren't often precognizant, and she couldn't swear this one was either. Sometimes a bad dream was just a bad dream. But the feeling it had left her with all day was black and foreboding.
"Dreams aren't an exact science," she murmured, resting her cheek against his shoulder and drawing comfort from his warmth. Touch helped ground her in this world when the other one got too overwhelming or threatening, even with the very distinctly Not Human energy that always came off of him. "I don't know what it means, or if it means anything. But you and I were there, and so was something else. Something worse, and it was aware of us. It scared me," she admitted, a slight frown creasing her brow. Being frightened troubled her almost as much as the thing in her dream. Layla had spent much of her life trying to persuade people that otherness wasn't frightening. It could be. But it didn't have to be.
