It was a strange, ominous thing that loitered in the back of her mind and spoke in whispers.
If you asked her, she would not have been able to tell you why she was waiting there, curled up in bed with the blankets held close, her phone sitting quietly on the bedside table.
She would not have been able to explain the hope that kept her awake, or the tingling expectation that made her feel as if her heart was in her fingertips.
There was an adventure here, a journey, and for some reason a part of her knew the roads she had to take and the perils she would face.
It was a part of her that had always known, that was beyond her, somehow, outside of herself; an ancient knowledge that had seen the turn of ages.
It was a sensation she didn't quite know how to deal with.
After all, she knew very little of love.
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