Maeve Sheridan knows she's better than you. (few_and_far) wrote in wished,
Slumped over her desk, quill still held loosely in her hand, Maeve dozed lightly. With her head resting on her arm she napped right on top of her spread out pile of notes. Staying up late to work and catching only a couple hours of sleep before the morning had caught up with her in the middle of writing out observations on one of her test solutions.
The warmth from simmering cauldrons had only added to her fatigue, pushing her right into unconsciousness. While she was a light sleeper, in normal circumstances, the knock at the door wasn't enough to rouse her and she merely shifted in her sleep, held up on her stool by the wide desk.