[RP] Warm nights can still be chilly.
[ It is one of those evenings where sleep eluded Sasha, no matter how hard she tries to chase it. Grecian summers are hot and humid, such as that the crisp sheets of her soft bed in her villa feel as if they are suffocating her. And yet when she pulls them away, it would only be a matter of time until her body registers the chill and she feels compelled to tug them back again.

The weather however is but a flimsy excuse for her restlessness, what of dreams of snow and fire; of ice-firm hands and warm bodies, of cool breaths and liquid heat, and of him. She does not want to open her eyes as she held onto the addictive emotions and sensations brought about by the dream, and yet sleep would not come to her.

-- but if sleep could not, perhaps she can summon those feelings again. Her own hand touch her neck, fingers trailing about the low neckline of her nightgown, while the other veers lower. Through the fabric, her fingers trace where his touch and his kisses might have been, as she silently wishes that it were his hands, his lips on her skin... ]