Histoire had had days when it felt nearly impossible to fall asleep at night, but those were nights prior to a big and busy day. Because she had no plans scheduled for the next day, she did not struggle against the insomnia that had suddenly befallen her and lay restless on her bed, turning her vision every few minutes to either face the plain, white ceiling that offered little to no entertainment, or to face her curtains and the street lights that swam in and brightened the room just enough that her eyes could adjust and she could see the outlines of the objects in the room.