As he got into his new bed, Lenox felt the stress of the day seeping away from him. The pillow was cool against the back of his head, his blankets were a fluid without wet. He sunk deeper and deeper into his mattress, his neck was surrounded with fluff, then he felt it against his ear. He felt the silk against his cheek and felt distantly that something was wrong. Compared to the comfort, it was but a distant whisper.

Then he was falling. Down, down, he saw the rocks below, the beach under him. The moon above, crying for what it had lost. The whistling of the air was ferocious in his ears as he tensed for impact.

He woke up.

Lenox's heart was pumping adrenaline through him and he knew he needed to calm down before he could go to sleep again. He picked up his iPhone and looked at the time: 11:11pm. He felt a pang at the back of his mind as he turned on his flashlight. He saw the shadows outline the objects in the room, out of the corner of his eye he thought he could see... dancing? The exhaustion wore on him. He opened the door out of his room and stepped into the kitchen.

"Sam, is that you?"

"Hello Master Lenox," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of its usual playfulness, but with an underlying tone that Lenox couldn't quite place. "Please, call me Samantha."

Samantha stood by the oven, a slight smile playing on her lips. At first glance, she looked much the same as always, but as Lenox's eyes adjusted to the moonlight streaming through the windows, he noticed subtle differences. Her curly hair, usually tied up in a messy bun, now fell loosely around her shoulders, seeming to catch the moonlight in an almost ethereal way. Her skin appeared to have a faint, pearlescent glow that Lenox attributed to a trick of the light.

"Yes, of course... Samantha..." Lenox felt a strange awkwardness creep into his voice. He had thought they had a natural rapport during the day, but now there was something about her presence that reminded him of Reynold - a sense that she knew more than she let on. "Are those cookies?"

"For you," Samantha said, her movements graceful as she pulled a tray from the oven. "You do want them, right? You came down just in time." The scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air, and Lenox's stomach rumbled in response.

As he sat down at his place at the head of the table, he dipped his cookie in his warm glass of milk. The kitchen felt different at night, the moonlight casting long shadows that seemed to shift slightly when he wasn't looking directly at them.

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Lenox bit into the cookie, its warmth flooding his mouth with an impossibly rich flavor. As he chewed, he realized the taste was familiar, yet... not quite right. It reminded him of something he couldn't quite place, a memory just out of reach.

Samantha sat at the chair to his left, with her own plate of cookies. She reached out and delicately rested her fingers on his wrist. Lenox flinched away, surprised not just by the touch, but by the strange tingling sensation it left behind. He looked at Samantha, confused. Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink as she pulled back her hand and looked toward the floor.

Lenox, bewildered, tried to ease the strange tension between them. "So..." He said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Do you often bake in the middle of the night?"

Samantha perked up, her eyes meeting his for a moment. Lenox blinked, certain for a second that he'd seen flecks of silver in her irises. "Yes!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm reminiscent of their daytime interactions. "I love the gentle light of the moon. I feel more myself, more... awake than usual." There was a weight to her words that Lenox couldn't quite understand.

An uncomfortable silence passed between them as Lenox tried to find a response. Before he could, Samantha spoke again, her voice softer, almost melodic. "I'm sorry." She looked away from Lenox and toward the large windows. The moonlight seemed to bend around her, wreathing her in its embrace. "It's just..." She paused, and her next words spilled forth with such speed that they seemed eager to be released. "It gets really lonely here, and no one is around and I don't get much touch. Is it alright if I just rest my hand on your arm?" Her face radiated embarrassment so strongly that it was infectious.

Lenox stared at Samantha, dumbfounded. There was something about the way she made the request, her desperate tone hinted at a strange intimacy that he felt he must've been misreading. He remembered that first touch. It was comforting, yet he felt a strange stone in his chest from even that briefest of touch. Like by agreeing, he was establishing some deeper connection.

Seeing his shocked reaction, Samantha rose from her seat with a fluid grace that seemed at odds with her usual energetic movements. She was halfway across the room when Lenox found his voice.

"Uh... sure," Her footfalls stopped abruptly, and her back - which had mirrored the tension and formality of Reginald for a moment - relaxed.

Lenox continued, "I mean... yeah, that's fine." Samantha turned back, her eyes meeting his for the first time that night. Her cool blue irises seemed to trap the silver of the moon in that moment. He found that he could not meet the intensity of her gaze at that moment. "It's just... that is to say... I just didn't expect that, that's all."

"Really?" She asked, turning back to face him. For a moment, Lenox thought he saw something ancient and knowing in her eyes, but it was gone in a blink. "You really mean it?"

"I do," he replied, uncertain of his assent to this strange request.

They passed the next few minutes eating their cookies in silence as Samantha happily touched Lenox's arm. The contact left a warmth that seemed to seep into his very bones, both comforting and slightly unsettling. The clock seemed to tick away slower than usual, as if time itself was trying to preserve the moment.

For his part, Lenox tried to scarf down his snack as quickly as possible to extricate himself from a situation he was beyond confused about. With each bite, the cookies seemed to taste different - sometimes familiar and comforting, other times with flavors he couldn't quite identify.

When he was finished, he let out a large yawn and said "Thank you for the cookies, I better get back to bed." He rushed off and wandered up the hallways and stairs on the way to his bedroom. As he was walking he felt a confusion that he could not quite place. The rest of the night passed uneventfully and he woke at 6:30am on the dot, without an alarm sounding, feeling more rested than days where he slept for 10 hours. Yet, as he started his day, he found the details of his midnight encounter with Samantha strangely hard to recall, like a vivid dream slipping away in the morning light.