pain_train | SANCTUM INBOX

"So you were always on earth?" What an amazing thought. "Did you ever see a spaceship?"

He makes a small noise, he's not explaining himself well enough. "I was in a ship within a half hour of being Revived. Junker, has to go back to get a drive unit for interplanetary travel. Nothing like Kirk and Christine's ship, from what they've described."

"That's so cool, though. I've never even seen a spaceship."

"Mmm." He rubs her shoulder, smiling to himself as a thought forms. "I'll just have to make you one."

It;s becoming harder to stay awake. He's relaxed after getting those thoughts and words out of his head, grateful Wrath forgave him and they had the talk they did. Relevant or not, he enjoys her company. Right now, she's a a warm, solid pulse next to him. He's entirely sober, this time around, and much more able to appreciate this moment for what it was. He sighs and nestles his head closer to hers.

"Oh wow, that would be so cool!" She's assuming a model, here, and that's still a cool thought. It's awesome when wants to make something.

She moves her thumb lightly against Orion's side. "Maybe I'll try to paint a spaceship sometime."

"Maybe I'll let you paint my spaceship." It feels nice. It feels so nice. Just, trying to forget everything else and enjoy the contact for what it was. Simple affection. It's so easy in that moment to just drift off into sleep without any other thoughts.

"You'll just have to tell me what it looks like..." Oh, but he's falling asleep. She'll let him sleep, and try to settle back in herself.

He does sleep, long and deep, rousing only long enough to shift position before falling back into that hazy void.

During that time, Wrath migrates to curl around his back rather protectively, her cheek resting at the base of his neck. It's comfortable and warm and... yes, he definitely smells nice. Her fingers are curled loosely against his chest when she starts waking the next morning.

He snuggles back against her, resting his hand over hers and sighing. He's still in that lovely dim space before waking, and he doesn't really want to leave it. There's a slight tension when he realizes morning has brought another surprise, but he takes a moment to center himself and breathe through it.

It's okay. It's okay. You're allowed this, Orion.

"Mmm?" Wrath wiggles her fingers to link then with his; it feels like the natural thing to do. "Morning."

"Morning." He squeezes her hand. "I'm not ready to move yet, that okay?" It's ... kind of nice to have her curled around his back like that.

"It's okay. I don't have anywhere I have to be today." She huffs a laugh against his back. She's barely been allowed to get out of bed. She even gets carried to the bathroom most of the time, and... she kind of needs it right now, she has to admit.

"Mmm. Good." He pushes a leg back to tangle in hers. "Gotta admit, this is pretty nice."

That's kind of nice to hear. Better than his abrupt exit from bed last time, that's sure. She rubs her foot lightly against his leg. "Glad to hear it," she murmurs. "You're nice and warm."

"You're soft and fuzzy." Seriously, Wrath; best He lets go of her hand so he can reach back and tug at her shirt.

She laughs. Okay, the shirt tugging surprises her, but it's a very nice shirt. Flannel. It's very soft and fuzzy. "You gonna steal my shirt now, jerk?" she teases. But she also wiggles enough to let him pull it up as much as he wants. "Don't think it'll fit you."

"You telling me I need to lose weight?" He disentangles long enough to roll over. and presses a finger against her nose. "Pink isn't my color, anyway. Needs more purple."

"More like you need to lose height," she says, laughing. "We could dye your hair purple."

"Lose height? I'm trying to gain it; gotta get as tall as Maine if I expect him to take me seriously."

But then he's wagging his finger in her face as a warning. "-- and no one is touching my hair." As much as he likes the color purple, his hair is a sacred thing that should not be trifled with.

All in all, he's enjoying this ... whatever it is, it's fun, and it makes him feel warm and light.

"Height has nothing to do with it," she says. "Maine takes me plenty seriously and he's like seven feet taller than me and could pick me up one-handed."

She smirks at him. "You going to make it into a challenge now?"

"Tell me your secrets then, Oh Tiny One." He rests his hand on her hip, tentatively, just a very light brushing of his fingers. God, she's gorgeous in the morning.

"The hair is strictly off limits. Whatever you do to mine, I'll do to yours." No way this plan could backfire. Also, gradually being hit with an overwhelming urge to kiss her. Nope. Not going to pay attention to that. Yet.

"I just don't take any crap off him," she says, shrugging. "Or maybe it's cause I've got a pretty smile." She slides her hand over his, just as light, an acknowledgment and a bit of encouragement. She doesn't mind at all.

"Oh, is that so. I always wanted a mohawk, you know..."

"So next time I have a problem with him I should just smile?" It does encourage him; he lets his palm press flat against her shirt. Why is he still talking about Maine Maine isn't here.

"No, no you don't want a mohawk. You want to leave your hair exactly as it is. No changes."

She does have a pretty smile, though. She's so close, and she's so warm, and she's so happy. He hangs on the edge of indecision.

Edited 2015-03-07 05:17 (UTC)

"Well, you've got a cute smile," she offers. "You just have to mean it. And then his heart will know fear." Grin.

"Oh, is that so?" Her turn to poke him lightly on the nose. "You don't know how many weird colors my hair's been." Technically, she doesn't either.

Maybe she can feel that, him about to tip one way or another. But she's not going to do anything to push him either way. This is good, and warm, and fun, and so much better than the last couple days. She doesn't want to go back to that awkward mess.

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