Are you angry with me?
Selene's hesitant whisper tickles in the back of my mind, even as her dog breath assaults my face.
Prying an eyelid open, I glare out the side of my eye. "I'm sleeping, Selene."
No, you're not. I can hear you thinking.
Grunting, I burrow deeper into the warmth and softness of my bed. Selene's insistent nuzzling makes it impossible, her furry body pressed against mine until I feel smothered by her heat.
"Too hot," I grumble, attempting to shove her away. But she's an immovable wall of fur and muscle.
She whimpers, resting her chin on my cheek. Her breath, evoking imagery of dog food and sardines, washes over my face. Are you angry with me, Ava?
"No, I'm not angry." I sigh, resigned to this conversation happening whether I want it to or not.
You sound angry.
Have been SEVERELY ill, in/out of urgent care!