Logs:Everything's Wrong
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| RL Date: 10 October, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Drex |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: When Farideh finally surfaces after Crom's gather, Drex is waiting for her. |
| Where: Farideh and Roszadyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 13, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: R'hin/Mentions |
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| It's late... who knows how late. But Drex is here, and awake, and moreover, pacing, waiting and fretting. The food he brought is long since cold, despite sitting near the hearth. Much too late to be coming home, much too late to be still dressed in her gather clothes, but still Farideh makes it back to her weyr, even if she's looking worse for wear. Tired eyes and a doleful expression, mussed hair and no hat, and strangely, plenty of sand granules clinging to her clothing; those shed as she walks. She's plainly not expecting Drex to be awake still - or there? - and stops just within the weyr, staring. He doesn't say anything, that sailor of hers -- relief floods Drex's face though, as he sees her, despite her state. It's possible he doesn't even notice it, not at first -- he rushes to her, seeking to enfold her in one of his tight hugs. Farideh stands in the same spot the entire time, rooted, without saying a word. She doesn't embrace him back, though her head does, eventually, find his shoulder, and her eyes squeeze shut. "You heard," sounds hollow, when she finally speaks at all. "Dragons," is all Drex offers by way of explanation, one hand coming up to brush at her hair. He's quiet, for a moment, just standing like that, and then: "The bath is cold by now, likely. I can run a new one. Or do you want to sleep?" "Dragons," Farideh echoes his sentiment, blankly. "I just-- want to sleep." It's a simple request, however strained it might sound. She leans into him heavily for scarcely enough time to inhale, and then takes a step back, lifting her head to look up at his face with barely-masked pain on her face; not with him, not now. "I'm sorry," she tells him, one hand lifting to trace lovingly against his cheek, before falling back to her side. "No, I'm sorry," Drex replies, his voice rough. He leans in to press his cheek against hers, exhaling. "I checked on Roszadyth," he says, as if that might somehow reassure her more than -- you know -- being able to speak to her personally as she can. And then, after a moment's regard, leans to pick her up -- arm scooping up under her knees -- and into the bedroom, helping her out of her dress, if she needs it. "You didn't kill him," Farideh says, her voice only slightly miserable. It's been a long day, full of emotions and surprises, and so, when he picks her up, she only sighs and doesn't protest like she normally might. She's certainly not begrudging of the extra set of hands to extricate herself from the complicated bit of frippery that is her dress. "I didn't mean for you to wait," she says quietly, after they've managed to get her undressed, and sits down on the edge of the bed. Drex's undressing, too, tossing clothes down on the floor in the way of his. Reaching to tug down the covers, he shakes his head. "I'll wait for as long as it takes, love." He climbs into bed, stretching out an arm for her to curl into. A silent moment passes in which Farideh just stares at Drex, and then she's crawling into bed and lying down next to him, latching onto him then with a certain greediness. No words are really needed, not now; everything's wrong, but somehow, like this, everything seems right. Words aren't needed, and yet -- there's two that help. "Love you," is the last thing she hears, Drex murmuring into her ear, holding as tightly to her as she to him. |
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Comments
Squishy (23:23, 10 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Awww
Faryn (23:49, 10 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Babies.
Jo (12:31, 11 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
First Greenfields, now THIS!
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