Text to Alfie
>Hey, I know you left the hospital, you doing ok?
[Evie] Honestly, I can't tell what's worse, office jobs or the club. [She says, writing her at all hours of the night because she knows she'll still be up. Third trimester insomnia] At least we got to leave the workload in the club.
[Tony] [She knows she probably should still be doing the silent treatment thing because he didn't "earn her time back"... but she's pretty excited about what she made. It's taken a few weeks to complete, but it's done now. She knows she can't protect him physically like he always does for her, and he never opens up enough for her to be his shoulder to cry on like he also is for her. But she notices things. In the hospital, she witnessed his nightmares. Things like that just don't go away on their own.
So she made a dreamcatcher. An ancient Stepford tool, it's made of willow branches that are molded into a circle and then there's a web that is woven with a hole in the center. Off of the wooden frame, different lengths of feathers dangle on strings. Legend has it that every night, everyone has good dreams and bad dreams, but if you hang the dream catcher over your bed, the bad dreams get tangled in the web and then only the good ones float down the feathers back to you. When the sun rises, the nightmares from the web burn up.
It's a bit of magic, she's no witch, but she does feel like there's a certain power to traditions. She even embellished the dream catcher with some nice stones and gems that are supposed to bring good luck and a calm energy since he's always attracting bad luck and he's always so stressed. That's why when she goes in the following morning, she brings the catcher and a little note explaining what it does and where to put it with her. She puts them on the desk he usually works at and then goes to meet her team for breakfast to discuss their work for the day.
She didn't actually talk to him or even see him, so she doesn't think this actually counts.]