Ilsa tossed and turned in her bed. The storm was raging outside and her windows were rattling manically as if trying to escape from some terrible fate. The rain drummed on her roof so loudly that Ilsa couldn't even hear herself think.
Glancing at the clock she found herself mindlessly going over again what could possibly have happened to him. Why hadn't she heard his gentle tap on her door yet? And if she never heard that gentle tap again how could she survive?
Finding herself shivering from either cold or fear Ilsa forced herself from the security of her bed to find a blanket.
What should she do? Who could help her?
Him • Blanket • What to do? • Who Can Help?