[For a moment, he's quite amazed that she can't feel the way his heart is pounding in his chest. He'd shown nobody this scar, and spoken to nobody about the moment except with those who were there.
His free hand reaches up and brushes wisps of hair back from her face.]
I know. I know... but that doesn't mean I wanted you to have to do it. I would have been as grateful to you as I am to Buffy, but if I could spare you that.
Especially not here. Not when I know that as long as we're here, it will never be forever. Sooner or later, all this will be gone, and you won't even remember who I am. I'd rather you didn't have to spend this time suffering on my account. I made Charley suffer like that enough. I will not do it to you, too.
[ She can feel it, the race of his heart. But maybe it just seems normal, since her own is stuttering along at the same pace. She's used to gentle gestures from the Doctors, but her eyes still flutter in the slightest as he brushes her hair back. She must look a proper mess, having just fallen out of a fitful lack of sleep, though she can just imagine him, any version of him, denying her the statement. The thought almost makes her smile. Almost.
But as her thumb strokes against the tortured skin, eyes drawn to his as he speaks, and she can't help but wonder if ... Could she have gone through with it? Maybe. She'd ordered a Dalek to commit suicide, ripped genocide through an entire species (and though she hadn't been in her full mind then, she remembers it clearly, now). Could she have killed one Time Lord turned human out of mercy? ]
But this- [ Her voice cracks, and she tries again, with slightly more push in it. ] What if this is all I have?
[His throat tightens at her words. This was a feeling he knows all too well. As far as he knows, this is all he has left. In this life, at least. When he returns home, Charley would have walked out on him a long time ago, and his best friend, who'd helped him find himself again, would be dead.
As far as he knew, when he left this place, there was only war and destruction left for this life. Still, at least he had other lives to come. Rose doesn't have that luxury. What does he say to that?
His fingertips continue to move, caressing her cheek and ghosting along her jawline with the lightest touch.]
Then...then you make the absolute most of it, and hold on to the ones you love, and the ones...the ones who...
The ones who love you.
[He straightens his fingers to cup her cheek, swallowing down that last bit of terror before pressing a kiss to her lips.]
[ It is a little different, she supposes. Because where before, she had thought (hoped, more accurately) that she would return home when she did, to something more, to Him and his magical machine and all of Time and Space. But now she'd gleaned, had come to find, that it wasn't going to be like that. Her story was .. over, in that sense. She didn't know what came of Theta and she, what would transpire back home (no matter how despairingly Theta painted the picture, here). The life she'd so exhaustingly fought to get back to, wasn't what she would return home to.
He had more lives to come; three more, at the very least, as was proof right there in the city with them. So she leans into his touch, however light it is. It's gentle, just as he is, even when he isn't. But she can feel her eyes watering at his words. They make sense, don't they? That they should never pass up... But hadn't he just been refuting that, only moments ago?
Confusion paints her face once more, but only until it begins to melt into a soft yet stricken sort of realization. What he was saying. She doesn't dare move nor breathe as he cups her cheek, leans in and only inhales as his lips touch hers. ... She could forget this. She could be pulled home and never remember the Doctor (in leather and a jumper) confessing to her, kissing her. Never remember this Doctor, in lieu of his death, coming to her doorstep upon her request, inadvertently admitting to his feelings (that she hadn't been sure of, from him), and kissing her. She could forget all of it, and just for a moment, she's terrified that she will. That the rug will get ripped out from under her feet.
So she grasps at his opened shirt, anchors herself and push-pulls him just a little closer. It's not an excited, sporadic, enthusiastic sort of kiss. But it is full of as much emotion as she could possibly muster out of her human body right now. Even if her eyes are wet within seconds. ]
[How did he describe this world to Eleven? "A moment of grace". However long it lasts, even if they won't remember it, it happened.
Because what’s the point in them being happy now if you know they’re going to be sad later? The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later.
This is happening, and it is amazing. He's not really her Doctor, but she's holding onto him and kissing him back, giving as good as she gets. He's not really ready to question it just now. He needs this moment. It may never be as good as this between them again.
His arms wrap tight around her, the hand that was on her cheek has moved to bury itself in her hair. With a tilt of his head, he deepens the kiss, holding her to him like she may just disappear when he opens his eyes.]
[ She's not sure she wants to think about anything other that this particular moment, terrified that if she does, something will snap and shatter and it will all fall apart. So she surrounds herself with it, lets him wrap his arms around, returns the favour and grasps at his back, tears that aren't building anymore falling out of closed eyes as she tilts her head along with his. It's not exactly pretty, but she isn't about to burst into tears anymore, either.
His kiss is so ... different. But then, everyone's is always just a little bit different. Where Nine was still and chaste and a bit tentative, his predecessor's is less so. Not better, not worse, but a different sort of good. One of her arms snakes up and over his shoulders, holding and pulling him to her and even if the stark height difference is odd, it doesn't disturb from her attempts to cocoon herself inside his arms. ]
[After a long, long moment, he finally comes up for air, staring down at her with a slightly startled look on his face. Had he really done that? It's a pleasant surprise, to be sure.
His brows knit together as he looks down at her tear-streaked face, holding her tight against him with one arm while his hand that had been in her hair comes down to gently brush the tears away.]
Rose...
[His voice catches, and he clears his throat and tries again.]
If you're tired, I could...
[He could what? Go now? Tuck her in and take his leave? Sleep here? It is anyone guess, because he stops there, searching her gaze for clues as to how to proceed.]
[ Air. Air sounds good, she'll take some of that. Even if when he does pull back she looks a touch flushed. And not from the ceased tears. She lets him brush them away with closed eyes, indulging once more in the gentle touch of his. But her name brings her attention forward again, and she forces them open once again. ]
I'm exhausted. [ And she is. Utterly bone-dead tired. ] You could ... Sleep here if you like. An' maybe if you don't. I think a bedmate might help me sleep better, anyway.
[ Yes, she did just affirm your staying there, Eight. ]
[There's actually a bit of relief in his eyes. He didn't really want to go back out there anyway. In here is comfort, warmth and understanding. It might just be the best sleep he's had in weeks without being dead.]
I would be happy to.
[He gives her one more little kiss before he lets her go.]
Your wish is my command.
[There's a tiny glimmer of the old light back in his eyes as he grins.]
[ She pauses briefly, after the next kiss (which she will briefly press into, despite the inward bite of her lips after), gives him a strange sort of look at his comment. But, in the end, she puts on a tired little smile, takes his hand and turns back towards the bedroom. The bed isn't massive; it's a single, big enough for two, but just barely. Thankfully they're both under six foot. ]
You said that t'me once- or you will do. After I'd asked to go meet my dad. I'm glad I met him, but that whole ... thing, could've turned out better. [ She pauses again. ] Which was all my doing, by the way. Nothin' of your fault. For once. [ H a h. ]
[He lets himself be led to the bedroom, leaving his shirt in the other room. Once they arrive, he kicks off his boots, giving her a thoughtful frown at her words.]
Things never do seem to work out when I take my companions home. I'm sorry.
[He'd tried to take Lucie back to Blackpool for Christmas, and she ended up getting hit by a car, nearly dying, finding out that he'd lied to her to protect her and ultimately leaving him, saying she could no longer trust him. Home and family never did work out...]
You hadn't met your-- oh.
[He is still fuzzy from the cleansing, but he does manage to catch himself halfway through. A hand rakes through his curls and he grimaces.]
I suppose the upside of it is that, like this place, you had that extra time with your fauther that you would have never had before. And unlike this place, you get to remember it.
[And then he glances to the bed, then down to himself. Jeans are not the most comfortable things to sleep in, but does he have the guts to strip down to his boxers? Does she even want him to do that?
Another little ridiculous thought of trying to be romantic by sweeping her up and settling her in bed crosses his mind, before logic kicks in and reminds him that it would be rather difficult with her being almost exactly the same height as him. The leverage would just be all wrong. Why did this body have to be so short?]
[ His blunder only seems to bring a smile to her lips, however small. ]
He died when I was a few months old. Mum told me stories about him all growin' up, so I went to go meet him. He was nothin' like she'd said. [ It's said with a breath of a laugh in her words. ] Turned out better.
[ And then her room, where she's still completely dressed her jammies, and ... he is not. It's almost painfully obvious how awkward he feels, too. Poor thing. Rose might feel a little self conscious, a little ... nervous. But nothing like he seems to be exuding. ]
You don't have t'sleep in that. I've seen you in shorts before- or, one of you. S'not a big deal.
[ And she will readily crawl onto the bed face-first with a flop, wavering for a moment, and then nudging over until she's left enough room for him to join her when he's ready. ]
[It isn't the first time he's been mostly naked with a woman in her bed, (Charley had been here for a few weeks after all) but it is the first time with this particular woman, and such a first is always intimidating.
Still, after a moment of fidgeting, he unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs, kicking them off out of the way. Before he can overthink things, he climbs into the bed and settles into the spot she's left for him.
Completely on instinct, he gathers her to him and holds her close, pressing a kiss into her hair.]
I don't...think I do. Not nearly as much as I have in previous bodies, at least.
[Because seriously, Six snores like a rusty chainsaw.]
[ Oh good, because she has zero problem with a cuddly Doctor, I mean really. And it feels ... nice to be held, even if it's (sort of, mostly) platonic. So there is no issue with her wriggling into his hold, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. Oddly enough, it reminds her of being in bed with Mickey. If only in the sense that the height difference really .. made a difference, when you were quite used to someone being just over six feet tall. Not in a bad way, of course. It was a complicated mix of emotions. Ones that she wasn't really in the mood to deal with or suss out just yet. Sleep sounded really good, even if it were only for a few hours. He might have been cleansed, but she had not, yet. ]
... Good to know. [ About the snoring. ] If, y'know, I ever end up sleeping over at Six's.
[ Though it's said in half a sleep-mutter, so whether she truly realizes what she's saying, or merely just saying it bluntly, is anyone's guess. After a moment however, her arms shift again, wrapping around him as best she can; one arm over his torso, the other tucked between them. ]
[Poor Eight isn't...feeling very platonic, but it has been the most exhausting of months, and even if he'd been rested and cleansed, emotionally he feels frayed and worn out. Sleep is the right option, even if a corner of his mind would really rather he just lost himself in her for a night.
To bad this night is about the worst time for his courage to rear it's ugly head.
Still, he revels in the closeness they are having at this point, and he runs his fingers through her hair and down her back, sighing pleasantly when her arm wraps around him.]
I'm glad I did, too. I think...I think I needed this.
[ Well no, neither is Rose. But she's tired as all hell, and the mode of cuddling is going to stay platonic because she might shove him off the bed if he tries anything. ... Then again, one can suppose when you're both half naked, cuddled together with one's leg sneaking up slightly between the other's, it could be considered a little more than platonic. Technicalities. Perhaps if she weren't so exhausted... Another time. It would definitely be put to a later date, she would make sure of it. ]
Wh'? Cuddles from a little blonde thing? [ She snorts a little, obviously teasing in her half-asleep state. ] ... I know, though. S'why I ask you t'come over.
[ Nevermind the fact that she obviously needed it too. ]
[His breath hitches juuuust slightly as her leg moves between his. By Kasterborous, no wonder humans spread so quickly across the universe. How they manage to hold this much desire in such a fragile body is beyond him.
But let's not think of that now, or this is going to be a long and awkward night.
He lets out a low, rumbling chuckle into her hair at her comment.]
Cuddles make everything better. And I'm glad you asked me. Thank you so much.
[Finally he settles in fully and closes his eyes, resting, but not yet fully sleeping. Just feeling the weight of her in his arms and being happy that he at least had this one night.]
[ This time, there is little to no answer from her. Merely a hummed sort of acknowledgement that perhaps she heard him, perhaps she just knew he was making noises. Nice noises, but still just sounds. By the gods she's exhausted, and this is perhaps the most content she's felt in a good week, so one can imagine how much they might try to indulge in it.
And if, once she's fallen asleep (mere moments later, really), she happens to shift around and get a little closer, as one does when they're feeling chilled, then so be it. You can't blame a slumbering individual if they're leg creeps higher between their bedmate's, or she wriggles a little closer, if just to get a little more full-bodied connection. His body heat was higher, what with him being human and all, and she seemed quite drawn toward it.
But time will pass because when Rose is out, Rose is out, and though it might only be a few hours, it's better than no sleep at all. She might even have slept longer had it not been for the uneasy feeling that crept along the back of her skull, whispering to her subconscious and feeding her nightmares. Nothing strong enough to startle her awake, but enough to have her shift, to frown in her sleep and grip whatever she might be holding a little tighter. In this case, the Doctor's shirt and the blanket thrown over them. Not nearly enough to rouse him, should he have fallen under as well, but enough to stir her towards the waking world none the less.
Had she had a clock in her room, it might have read somewhere nearing five in the morning. What a joyous time to be awake again. But, seeing as she was finding herself (sort of) wide awake upon first opening her eyes, there wouldn't be much more sleep happening for a while. She shivers, glancing blearily at the window to no avail; it's still dark, but not quite as dark as the dead of night. Too early, and with a hateful, hushed groan, her head flops back against the pillow. Or ... his arm, depending on how they'd moved in their sleep. ]
[As she drifts off, he holds her close, his hand on her hair and down her back slowing more and more as he starts to fall into sleep himself. Her movements do wake him up from time to time, just enough so he snuggles a bit closer along with her, pulling the blanket tighter around them.
It has been so long now since he's been able to sleep at all, let alone so comfortably. Now that he's cleansed, he knows how little sleep he truly got, since Thiazi would take his body as soon as night fell and made him do such truly horrible things. His own nightmares make him shiver, and unfortunately his nightmares aren't caused by the corruption, but his own guilt.
He remains asleep for a little while after she wakes up, his arms still holding her close to her body. And then, he's slowly subconsciously aware that she's awake and his eyes blink open, gazing blearily at her. When she flops her head back down, he's fully awake then and lifts his head from the pillow to look down at her.]
[ It's a bit hard to see in the room, even with the light from under the door (she must have forgotten to flick off the kitchen light), but it isn't hard to tell when he lifts his head and questions her. She's grateful for the dark for hiding her guilty expression. She hadn't meant to wake him. ]
Sorry- yeah. M'fine. You might be all cleaned up, but I'm still-- Sleep is difficult.
[ And with a groan, she burrows herself against his chest, seemingly ignorant of her inhibitions in the still half-groggy state she's wading in. ]
[His voice is rough with what little sleep he did have.]
No, no, it's alright. I may be cleaned up, but I still remember everything, so I wasn't sleeping very soundly anyway.
[Having her against his chest feels nice. Very nice. In his own half-groggy state, he's only barely aware of his heart picking up speed just a little. He adjusts his position on the bed to rest more fully on it, wrapping both arms around her now and holding her close to him.]
I'm sure the gods will have a way to fix it soon enough.
[ She moves with him as he does, situating herself until they're both comfortable, even if it means she's more partially on top of him (or his chest at least) than anything else. Her head nods once; no, he would still have some of those memories, wouldn't he.
... The temptation to ask if he remembered at all what happened during his fugue states is there, but she stores it away. Not the time. Definitely, absolutely not the time. ]
Mm. Dunno. You could distract me?
[ ... She does mean that innocently enough. Honest. ]
[There was a point when he had a thought in his head. Maybe. He vaguely remembers there being thoughts and intelligence and...stuff. It takes a moment for something intelligible to come out of his mouth; at first there's nothing but stammering before he finally manages to say...]
[ It was innocent, you dirty old man. Shame on you. But his response has her grinning suddenly, and man alive, has she ever been more grateful for the dark? Hiding her reddening cheeks so flawlessly. Rose Tyler does not blush, and the world shall not know otherwise. ]
Well. You could always kiss me again. If you like.
[He's stripped down to his boxers and has a beautiful woman lying half on top of him. Cut him some slack.
This. This is definitely a good suggestion. He gently pulls her up a bit more so her lips are within reach and tilts his head to capture her mouth with his. His kiss the night before hadn't been chaste and neither is this one. Even less so, due to the haze of just waking up, combined with the warmth and comfort of being cocooned under a blanket with another body pressed against him.
It's a kiss that's slow and languid, as if he has all the time in the world. And really, it's really far too early in the morning and they have nowhere to go. Of course he has the time to kiss Rose properly.]
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His free hand reaches up and brushes wisps of hair back from her face.]
I know. I know... but that doesn't mean I wanted you to have to do it. I would have been as grateful to you as I am to Buffy, but if I could spare you that.
Especially not here. Not when I know that as long as we're here, it will never be forever. Sooner or later, all this will be gone, and you won't even remember who I am. I'd rather you didn't have to spend this time suffering on my account. I made Charley suffer like that enough. I will not do it to you, too.
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But as her thumb strokes against the tortured skin, eyes drawn to his as he speaks, and she can't help but wonder if ... Could she have gone through with it? Maybe. She'd ordered a Dalek to commit suicide, ripped genocide through an entire species (and though she hadn't been in her full mind then, she remembers it clearly, now). Could she have killed one Time Lord turned human out of mercy? ]
But this- [ Her voice cracks, and she tries again, with slightly more push in it. ] What if this is all I have?
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As far as he knew, when he left this place, there was only war and destruction left for this life. Still, at least he had other lives to come. Rose doesn't have that luxury. What does he say to that?
His fingertips continue to move, caressing her cheek and ghosting along her jawline with the lightest touch.]
Then...then you make the absolute most of it, and hold on to the ones you love, and the ones...the ones who...
The ones who love you.
[He straightens his fingers to cup her cheek, swallowing down that last bit of terror before pressing a kiss to her lips.]
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He had more lives to come; three more, at the very least, as was proof right there in the city with them. So she leans into his touch, however light it is. It's gentle, just as he is, even when he isn't. But she can feel her eyes watering at his words. They make sense, don't they? That they should never pass up... But hadn't he just been refuting that, only moments ago?
Confusion paints her face once more, but only until it begins to melt into a soft yet stricken sort of realization. What he was saying. She doesn't dare move nor breathe as he cups her cheek, leans in and only inhales as his lips touch hers. ... She could forget this. She could be pulled home and never remember the Doctor (in leather and a jumper) confessing to her, kissing her. Never remember this Doctor, in lieu of his death, coming to her doorstep upon her request, inadvertently admitting to his feelings (that she hadn't been sure of, from him), and kissing her. She could forget all of it, and just for a moment, she's terrified that she will. That the rug will get ripped out from under her feet.
So she grasps at his opened shirt, anchors herself and push-pulls him just a little closer. It's not an excited, sporadic, enthusiastic sort of kiss. But it is full of as much emotion as she could possibly muster out of her human body right now. Even if her eyes are wet within seconds. ]
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Because what’s the point in them being happy now if you know they’re going to be sad later? The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later.
This is happening, and it is amazing. He's not really her Doctor, but she's holding onto him and kissing him back, giving as good as she gets. He's not really ready to question it just now. He needs this moment. It may never be as good as this between them again.
His arms wrap tight around her, the hand that was on her cheek has moved to bury itself in her hair. With a tilt of his head, he deepens the kiss, holding her to him like she may just disappear when he opens his eyes.]
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His kiss is so ... different. But then, everyone's is always just a little bit different. Where Nine was still and chaste and a bit tentative, his predecessor's is less so. Not better, not worse, but a different sort of good. One of her arms snakes up and over his shoulders, holding and pulling him to her and even if the stark height difference is odd, it doesn't disturb from her attempts to cocoon herself inside his arms. ]
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His brows knit together as he looks down at her tear-streaked face, holding her tight against him with one arm while his hand that had been in her hair comes down to gently brush the tears away.]
Rose...
[His voice catches, and he clears his throat and tries again.]
If you're tired, I could...
[He could what? Go now? Tuck her in and take his leave? Sleep here? It is anyone guess, because he stops there, searching her gaze for clues as to how to proceed.]
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I'm exhausted. [ And she is. Utterly bone-dead tired. ] You could ... Sleep here if you like. An' maybe if you don't. I think a bedmate might help me sleep better, anyway.
[ Yes, she did just affirm your staying there, Eight. ]
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I would be happy to.
[He gives her one more little kiss before he lets her go.]
Your wish is my command.
[There's a tiny glimmer of the old light back in his eyes as he grins.]
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You said that t'me once- or you will do. After I'd asked to go meet my dad. I'm glad I met him, but that whole ... thing, could've turned out better. [ She pauses again. ] Which was all my doing, by the way. Nothin' of your fault. For once. [ H a h. ]
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Things never do seem to work out when I take my companions home. I'm sorry.
[He'd tried to take Lucie back to Blackpool for Christmas, and she ended up getting hit by a car, nearly dying, finding out that he'd lied to her to protect her and ultimately leaving him, saying she could no longer trust him. Home and family never did work out...]
You hadn't met your-- oh.
[He is still fuzzy from the cleansing, but he does manage to catch himself halfway through. A hand rakes through his curls and he grimaces.]
I suppose the upside of it is that, like this place, you had that extra time with your fauther that you would have never had before. And unlike this place, you get to remember it.
[And then he glances to the bed, then down to himself. Jeans are not the most comfortable things to sleep in, but does he have the guts to strip down to his boxers? Does she even want him to do that?
Another little ridiculous thought of trying to be romantic by sweeping her up and settling her in bed crosses his mind, before logic kicks in and reminds him that it would be rather difficult with her being almost exactly the same height as him. The leverage would just be all wrong. Why did this body have to be so short?]
So...ah...after you?
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He died when I was a few months old. Mum told me stories about him all growin' up, so I went to go meet him. He was nothin' like she'd said. [ It's said with a breath of a laugh in her words. ] Turned out better.
[ And then her room, where she's still completely dressed her jammies, and ... he is not. It's almost painfully obvious how awkward he feels, too. Poor thing. Rose might feel a little self conscious, a little ... nervous. But nothing like he seems to be exuding. ]
You don't have t'sleep in that. I've seen you in shorts before- or, one of you. S'not a big deal.
[ And she will readily crawl onto the bed face-first with a flop, wavering for a moment, and then nudging over until she's left enough room for him to join her when he's ready. ]
Hope you don't snore.
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[It isn't the first time he's been mostly naked with a woman in her bed, (Charley had been here for a few weeks after all) but it is the first time with this particular woman, and such a first is always intimidating.
Still, after a moment of fidgeting, he unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs, kicking them off out of the way. Before he can overthink things, he climbs into the bed and settles into the spot she's left for him.
Completely on instinct, he gathers her to him and holds her close, pressing a kiss into her hair.]
I don't...think I do. Not nearly as much as I have in previous bodies, at least.
[Because seriously, Six snores like a rusty chainsaw.]
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... Good to know. [ About the snoring. ] If, y'know, I ever end up sleeping over at Six's.
[ Though it's said in half a sleep-mutter, so whether she truly realizes what she's saying, or merely just saying it bluntly, is anyone's guess. After a moment however, her arms shift again, wrapping around him as best she can; one arm over his torso, the other tucked between them. ]
I'm glad you came over.
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To bad this night is about the worst time for his courage to rear it's ugly head.
Still, he revels in the closeness they are having at this point, and he runs his fingers through her hair and down her back, sighing pleasantly when her arm wraps around him.]
I'm glad I did, too. I think...I think I needed this.
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Wh'? Cuddles from a little blonde thing? [ She snorts a little, obviously teasing in her half-asleep state. ] ... I know, though. S'why I ask you t'come over.
[ Nevermind the fact that she obviously needed it too. ]
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But let's not think of that now, or this is going to be a long and awkward night.
He lets out a low, rumbling chuckle into her hair at her comment.]
Cuddles make everything better. And I'm glad you asked me. Thank you so much.
[Finally he settles in fully and closes his eyes, resting, but not yet fully sleeping. Just feeling the weight of her in his arms and being happy that he at least had this one night.]
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And if, once she's fallen asleep (mere moments later, really), she happens to shift around and get a little closer, as one does when they're feeling chilled, then so be it. You can't blame a slumbering individual if they're leg creeps higher between their bedmate's, or she wriggles a little closer, if just to get a little more full-bodied connection. His body heat was higher, what with him being human and all, and she seemed quite drawn toward it.
But time will pass because when Rose is out, Rose is out, and though it might only be a few hours, it's better than no sleep at all. She might even have slept longer had it not been for the uneasy feeling that crept along the back of her skull, whispering to her subconscious and feeding her nightmares. Nothing strong enough to startle her awake, but enough to have her shift, to frown in her sleep and grip whatever she might be holding a little tighter. In this case, the Doctor's shirt and the blanket thrown over them. Not nearly enough to rouse him, should he have fallen under as well, but enough to stir her towards the waking world none the less.
Had she had a clock in her room, it might have read somewhere nearing five in the morning. What a joyous time to be awake again. But, seeing as she was finding herself (sort of) wide awake upon first opening her eyes, there wouldn't be much more sleep happening for a while. She shivers, glancing blearily at the window to no avail; it's still dark, but not quite as dark as the dead of night. Too early, and with a hateful, hushed groan, her head flops back against the pillow. Or ... his arm, depending on how they'd moved in their sleep. ]
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It has been so long now since he's been able to sleep at all, let alone so comfortably. Now that he's cleansed, he knows how little sleep he truly got, since Thiazi would take his body as soon as night fell and made him do such truly horrible things. His own nightmares make him shiver, and unfortunately his nightmares aren't caused by the corruption, but his own guilt.
He remains asleep for a little while after she wakes up, his arms still holding her close to her body. And then, he's slowly subconsciously aware that she's awake and his eyes blink open, gazing blearily at her. When she flops her head back down, he's fully awake then and lifts his head from the pillow to look down at her.]
Rose? Are you alright?
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Sorry- yeah. M'fine. You might be all cleaned up, but I'm still-- Sleep is difficult.
[ And with a groan, she burrows herself against his chest, seemingly ignorant of her inhibitions in the still half-groggy state she's wading in. ]
Didn't mean t'wake you too.
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No, no, it's alright. I may be cleaned up, but I still remember everything, so I wasn't sleeping very soundly anyway.
[Having her against his chest feels nice. Very nice. In his own half-groggy state, he's only barely aware of his heart picking up speed just a little. He adjusts his position on the bed to rest more fully on it, wrapping both arms around her now and holding her close to him.]
I'm sure the gods will have a way to fix it soon enough.
Is there anything I can do to help?
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... The temptation to ask if he remembered at all what happened during his fugue states is there, but she stores it away. Not the time. Definitely, absolutely not the time. ]
Mm. Dunno. You could distract me?
[ ... She does mean that innocently enough. Honest. ]
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And, ah...how would you prefer to be distracted?
[Sure. Innocent.]
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Well. You could always kiss me again. If you like.
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This. This is definitely a good suggestion. He gently pulls her up a bit more so her lips are within reach and tilts his head to capture her mouth with his. His kiss the night before hadn't been chaste and neither is this one. Even less so, due to the haze of just waking up, combined with the warmth and comfort of being cocooned under a blanket with another body pressed against him.
It's a kiss that's slow and languid, as if he has all the time in the world. And really, it's really far too early in the morning and they have nowhere to go. Of course he has the time to kiss Rose properly.]
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