[ there are times emma wishes she could tamp down on the amount she accidentally shares through their link. this happens to be one of them, as the relief and appreciation momentarily flashes through the bond, soft but genuine. ]
Of course.
[ she hesitates, watching him for a moment, before she heads down the hall and past his room (looking even more sparse now than it had before), back to her own. she leaves her robe on the small hook over her door, sitting on the edge of her bed in her usual nightgown. she feels...fidgety. nervous. while she's glad that she'll have faraday's company, she's also a little uncertain about sharing so much space with another person again.
out of the corner of her eye, she looks to the empty side of her bed. matthew's side. he's been dead months now, and she still can't bring herself to sleep there, can't even properly spread out on the mattress because she's so accustomed to sleeping with someone. having that presence beside her had made it so effortless, had let her rest easy, even on her more fitful nights.
that's one of the biggest adjustments she's had to make: being alone again.
in an effort to redirect some of her nervous energy, emma runs her fingers through her tangled hair as she sits on the edge of her mattress, not crawling back under the covers or properly laying down yet. she's taking the moment to wait for faraday, to make sure he doesn't need a hand with anything (as much as she knows he won't ask for it), but also halfway avoiding crawling once again into an empty bed. ]
no subject
Of course.
[ she hesitates, watching him for a moment, before she heads down the hall and past his room (looking even more sparse now than it had before), back to her own. she leaves her robe on the small hook over her door, sitting on the edge of her bed in her usual nightgown. she feels...fidgety. nervous. while she's glad that she'll have faraday's company, she's also a little uncertain about sharing so much space with another person again.
out of the corner of her eye, she looks to the empty side of her bed. matthew's side. he's been dead months now, and she still can't bring herself to sleep there, can't even properly spread out on the mattress because she's so accustomed to sleeping with someone. having that presence beside her had made it so effortless, had let her rest easy, even on her more fitful nights.
that's one of the biggest adjustments she's had to make: being alone again.
in an effort to redirect some of her nervous energy, emma runs her fingers through her tangled hair as she sits on the edge of her mattress, not crawling back under the covers or properly laying down yet. she's taking the moment to wait for faraday, to make sure he doesn't need a hand with anything (as much as she knows he won't ask for it), but also halfway avoiding crawling once again into an empty bed. ]