Aria sighed. She had crossed a line again. Perhaps people could have proper bonds of trust. Theoretically it was possible. Just because all of the ones she's been involved in were lopsided didn't mean anything. When Phoenix turned away from her, she almost said that she was sorry. She wanted to, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. So instead she whispered "Goodnight" and stared up at the ceiling for a time.<br/><br/>When she finally did drift off to sleep, the night was plagued with dreams. Her dream self moved through the images of her time spent spying in the Summer Court: The things she did, the people who trusted her, the person she trusted, the mistake she made.<br/><br/>She felt as some of the warmth left, which was odd to her. The Summer Court was a place of heat. It didn't stop the images, and the dreams. Instead they shifted. No longer memories, they were proper nightmares, all centered around what actually happened. Before long she was curled up on herself, in a ball, with the blanket held tightly over her as if she was attempting to shield herself from her own mind using it.