It’s late. I know it’s late. I’m tired, but something keeps waking me. Something inside me calls me awake when I start to doze. It warns me of something horrid that may occur.
So I stay awake, my eyes focused on my turian. He’s bathed in the blue glow from the aquarium, the light dances off his plates and highlights his clan markings.
Suddenly he stirs. A turian takes up a lot of space when still, but when in motion they could take up a whole room if they felt like it.
His body trembles, and I wonder what he’s dreaming about. His talons dig into my hip in a painful way. “Garrus, baby, you’re hurting me,” I whisper, hoping he might be just wake enough to acknowledge me. He lets out a cry of what sounds like pain, and what I know is a turian mourning cry.
I pry his talons off. “Garrus,” I call quietly, wanting to just awaken him enough to stop his dream.
He lets out another mourning cry, and another, and another.
I decide to try