Without thinking and without being able to control it, Angelina felt her eyes close and her body begin to relax as Adrian's fingers combed their way through her hair. She knew she wasn't the only one who reacted this way, but there was just something about someone playing with her hair. Whether it was braiding it, combing through it, or twirling it, Angelina was quickly rendered useless.
"I don't even think about it anymore. Not until they come..." Which was quite possibly the hardest part. Angelina could go through her day, not think about the war, and be woken up in the dead of night plagued by it. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd consciously though about the war. Likely when she found out Fred was alive here.
"I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I can't control them." In all honesty, Ange was at a loss when it came to her dreams. And she absolutely hated that Adrian was seeing her like this; broken and vulnerable. His reaction surprised her as much as it didn't. She'd seen this side of him, she just wished everyone else could. "I usually just lay awake the rest of the night when they come, but you should try and go back to sleep."