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She woke up at two in the morning, crying.
Eight nights into their stay on TranRollinHyfa and four nights after Pin-Lee gave up trying to sleep in the uncomfortable hotel armchair and joined Ratthi and Gurathin in the dubiously more comfortable hotel bed it was all finally starting to get to her, creep through the cracks of her increasingly brittle mask, pick at her heart—the mattress felt wrong and the sheets smelled weird and the pillows were too soft and the food from dinner sat heavy in her stomach and Gurathin snored and the bed was too hot with three people crammed into it and it was still easier to be upset about that than the fact that GrayCris was just continuously jerking their chain and depleting their resources and they were no closer to freeing Ayda and they were all going to die here—and now to add insult to injury her own body was betraying her and she was crying.
The insults kept piling up, too, because her attempts to roll over and steady her breath woke Ratthi. He looked up at her blearily, and began, “Are you all…?” but at the look on her face, paused and changed it to, “Do… you want to talk, or, a hug, or should I just… go back to sleep and forget I saw this?”
“That last one,” Pin-Lee ground out (fuck, was she really that obvious?), and, to her immense relief and Ratthi’s reluctant credit, he did.