I decided to leave my bed.
Lying there any longer felt pointless.
My eyes had been shut for who knows how long, and yet sleep refused to come. It was the kind of stubborn wakefulness that made you more aware of your own breathing, your own thoughts, as well as your own frustration. Trying harder just made it worse, like forcing something that clearly wasn't going to happen. At some point, it stopped being about rest and started feeling like a waste of time.
Since I couldn't sleep, there was no reason to keep pretending that I could.
That was why I chose to get up, pushing the covers aside and sitting at the edge of the bed for a moment before standing. The floor felt slightly cold against my feet. Fresh air sounded like a better idea than suffocating in my own thoughts, so I decided to step out.
The castle tonight felt… unusually quiet.
