Thump! Out of nowhere, a stack of books landed on the edge of the table, sending San's ink bottle twirling precariously across her page. A bulbous red face settled into place over the books, propped at a lazy angle on a thick, pink forearm. San blinked until her eyes could focus on the dimly-lit room again, slowly turning her head up towards the rotund intruder. "Good night, Mrs. Bezzingtol. Can I help you with something?"
Mrs. Bezzingtol wiped a few frizzy red ringlets out of her face, letting her arm fall in next to the other beneath her chin. "Not at all, dear." She smiled a wide grin, both toothy and toothless wrapped together in hideous courtesy. An expectant look hovered underneath her merry features, but it was just out of San's reach.
The girl took in a breath to speak, but found herself at a loss in front of the large woman's strange friendliness. One sharp black eyebrow furrowed, she glanced down at the page before her and made a small note before salting the surface. Dropping the quill and stopping the bottle, she allowed her eyes to wander to the thick stack of books. "Doing some late night reading, Mrs. Bezzingtol?"
Mrs. Bezzingtol lifted her arms and looked down at the books as if she had only just noticed that she was resting on them. "Oh, my. No, I...hmm...now what were these for?" She slapped her arms back down, leaning her weight onto the stack as she bent to read their spines. "Everyday Eavesdropper, The Village Spy, and The Girl That Didn't Sleep...No, I've no idea what I meant to do with this lot..." Mrs. Bezzingtol looked back up to San, a humored glimmer in her wide yellow eyes.
San paused, unsure what to say to the kind but meddlesome woman. She slowly rolled her paper, then looked up with young, earnest green eyes. "I'm not hurting anyone, Mrs. Bezzingtol..."
Mrs. Bezzingtol laughed, throwing herself backwards a step or two. "Is that what you think I'm worried about? Hurting that silly old couple out there?" She swayed towards the window, throwing it open and stuffing her face into the blustery white wind. "Hey! Isn't it high time you two got back to your knitting and warm milk? Your knees are probably frozen solid by now!" Latching the window shut again, Mrs. Bezzingtol chuckled and sat down next to San, running a thick finger over one of her tight black braids. "No, I'm just worried for you, my dear. It's been a long time since I had a restless boarder. I like to see my children awake in the early hours of the morning after a good night of sleep, not after they've chased their dreams away for another time."
San shifted, collecting her materials and rising from the tavern bench with a thin smirk. "Well, perhaps it's been too long since you met someone that can see dreams while her eyes are still open." She crossed the room to the stairs, turning as she placed a hand on the banister. "They're everywhere, Mrs. Bezzingtol. Rolling off of our breath in the cold winter air, trailing at our feet as we skip through petals in spring. I can look at anyone and see their dreams." San's far-off look fell back as she laid a warm eye on the patroness still seated at the table. "Anyone but you, Mrs. Bezzingtol."
Mrs. Bezzingtol rose, looking weary as she turned to douse the light by the front door. "Anyone but yourself. Those aren't your dreams, San. They'll never be yours."
San frowned and nudged her body into motion, rising up the stairs one ponderous foot at a time. "Good night, Mrs. Bezzingtol."
