It was uncommon for anyone to act like themselves in her dreams, but that strange ensemble of his would remain stubbornly and inexplicably in her memory for the foreseeable future. Sadie stared rather dumbly at the man perched in her window, with his baritone words that rolled over her like a brief spring shower. Her fingers fussed with her braid, coincidentally just over her heart as it sped up in her chest.
Men at her window was not something she generally conjured in her dreams (waking or not), but some part of her felt quite opportunistic (vicar or not). Though she barely knew the man, he was incredibly sweet and had made an impression on her, and really, she could have done far worse. 'When in Rome,' as they say, but...
When Sadie came to the startling realization that her night gown had disappeared, she gasped in alarm and clutched both arms across her exposed front. As humiliation shot through her from head to toe, she loosed one arm just to push at the vicar's knee, but did not double forward or turn her back to him. "Don't look at me! Don't look!" The wall-sized window transformed to crystal clear in stark contrast to the full-bodied flush that set her pale skin on fire. She was aware of faceless forms, strangers, enemies, looking in at her like the disgusting voyeurs they were.
It was not her physical body she was so afraid of the oddly alluring vicar seeing -- or so her waking mind would reason, should she recall the dream with any level of detail. Though Hili was locked deep away, out of sight and literally out of mind, her brain simply couldn't forget that he would return.
"Hide me, they can see me," she pleaded to the vicar, as their roles reversed.