“ I am neither dream nor waking world ,” he hedged , avoiding ‘ nightmare ’ at all costs .
“ Which sounds very much like something tilting for my sanity would say .” She held his gaze .
There was too much weight . Too much emotion in her observation to ignore .
“ I am real ,” he assured her . “ Just very much like yourself ; rare and unusual .” “’ Rare ’ is a heartbeat from extinct .” “’ Rare ’ is wonderous and misunderstood .” He smiled .
She didn ’ t return it . “ What do you want most in this life ?” “ I want to be free .” “ Free to do what ?” “ Pursue whatever impulse presents itself .” “ Why did you cut your hair ?” “ Because it is mine . Locked in here , there is little- ” “ Locked ?” The doorknob rotated aimlessly beneath his touch . He walked back across the room at human speed .
“ I may have misrepresented the perceived status of my sanity . My mother tells me I am not imprisoned ; I am protected . But I do not believe my cage understands the difference .”
Her confession hurt him . Its honesty railed against his memory of her from last night . The girl who ’ d faced a vampire with such natural ease .
“ It seems that not all doctors agree . My imagination , my dreams have become a battleground for their theories , their fledgling disciplines and their reputations . And now , with your appearance , a battleground for me too , it seems .”
“ Allow me to show you something , please .” He sat down on the wide windowsill and patted the space next to him . “ It ’ s probably better if you sit .”
“ Than fall ?” She approached wearing a wry expression . “ Again .”
“ Why fall when you can jump ?”
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