That night, as Daphne lay on her bed, staring at the familiar painting on the ceiling, the entire day felt like a blur.
She tried counting sheep.
She tried to convince herself that she was tired.
She tried to close her eyes until she somehow slipped into the world of dreams.
Tossing and turning, no matter what she tried to do, she simply could not fall asleep.
The scenes replayed in her mind over and over again, like a never-ending loop.
She didn't know why she had the sudden surge of confessions nor why she was able to feel the emotions that he himself claimed not to be able to feel.
It seemed straight out of a fantasy.
Daphne had long stopped believing in fairy tales. Princesses in fairy tales had such a seemingly easy way out. No matter what happened, they would fall in love with the man of their dreams, how would then save them from whatever enemies and foes they were fending off. Then, true love overcomes all, and the pair would live happily ever after.
