#Chapter 71: The Letters

Ruby I’m not sure when I fall asleep in Atwood’s study, but at some point during the night I feel myself being gently lifted out of the plush armchair that I was reading in and being carried to my room. I don’t need to open my eyes to know that it’s Atwood who is carrying me; his scent fills my body with warmth and his strong arms hold me tightly against his chest. He lays me down in my bed and gently pulls the covers up around me, then plants a soft kiss on my forehead and quietly leaves the room. I find it a little strange that he still isn’t sleeping in the same bed as me now that we’ve marked each other, but it doesn’t worry me anymore like it used to. Perhaps he’s simply busy or not ready to share a bed yet. Truthfully, I’m not sure if I’m completely ready, either. My dreams aren’t nearly as vivid as they were before, which only further leads me to believe that that “dream” I had wasn’t a dream at all, but rather some sort of vision or prophecy. You are so