The night was deep, and outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the city noise had vanished. In such an environment, he could hear his rapid heartbeat so clearly.
But it was just a dream; reality remained reality and wouldn't be changed by dreams.
As if trying to dispel fear, he turned on the bedside lamp, only to find that his forehead was covered in a fine layer of sweat.
A bit bewildered, he turned his head to look at the spot beside him, where it seemed there was still her faint fragrance.
When she slept, she always lounged like a little cat. He was accustomed to holding her, pulling her into his arms, allowing her to nest like a kitten in his embrace.
He got dressed, got out of bed, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.