She was drifting off to sleep when there was a sharp knock at the door. Her drowsy mind was reluctant to release its relaxed hold upon her body. The second knock had her sitting up within her warm bed before her brain could protest.
Her eyes darted to the clock and saw that it was late, too late for visitors despite the demanding echo of the third knock.
Putting her feet onto the floor brings them jerking back far quicker than their descent. So cold! Moments later, with properly slippered feet, she stood at the top of the stair. Her eyes looked at her front door as a fourth knock reverberated through the air.
Each slow step down brought such a number of thoughts to her mind, trying to figure who would wake her or if she should be concerned of whoever was knocking.
Her eye peers through the glass in the door and a gasp falls from her lips. She has the door open before the fifth knock could fall.
"Didn't mean to wake you up, but I figured you wanted to know that I was home, sweetheart."
When she was in his arms then, she did not so much mind about being woken up.
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