For a moment, as he opened his eyes to absolute darkness, he wondered if he was still dreaming. It would certainly explain the utter heaviness of his limbs, as though gravity was ten times normal sea level, and the strong scent of lavender. He let his eyes close again and drifted, half-asleep still and unwilling to let go of the rest.
But even in the middle of the night there should have been some light in his room. Some kind of noise beyond his own breath. If nothing else his computer was a constant background hum of fans, power and blinking lights - but there was nothing. No fans, no electricity humming down the wires, no coloured lights throwing weird shadows across the walls and ceiling. Nothing at all, in fact, but the still-strong lavender scent and the increasing tempo of his heartbeat.
It's just a dream, he comforted himself, curling up under the blankets and snuggling into the pillow. None of this is real, and chances are when I wake up I won't even remember it. Go back to sleep.
Lavender and the exploding patterns behind his eyelids lulled him back to sleep.
