[ in fact, it's good. she feels so intensely relaxed in a way she's never managed in the past, even with matthew — which is indicative of exactly how much faraday affects her.
she brushes her thumb gently across the back of his hand, relishing in the prickles of sensation in her skin, in her mark, and just— in her. it's like a part of her has finally meshed with something she's missed, and that something...seems to be the man laying opposite her in the hospital bed.
through the link, she can feel how sleep pulls at him, how exhausted (but clearly relaxed) his body is. ]
You can go back to sleep, if you need it. I'll stay put.
[ if he wants her to. if he doesn't, she could come back at another time (as much as she doesn't want to break this connection). ]
[ His expression tightens for a second as she speaks – for a second, he worries she means to leave, at least until she offers to stay beside him. He lets out a breath after that, gives the barest of nods. ]
Please.
[ Little more than a whisper, but with an earnestness he’s rarely (if ever) used before today. Another barely-there squeeze of his hand against hers, as that sense of comfort drifts over him, warm and thick like blankets on a winter evening.
Exhaustion isn’t new – not since he’s been lying in this bed, hooked up to all manner of machines. Now, at least, he has that sense of ease, of serenity to smooth away the grating edge of it, to soften the pain that slips past the effects of the painkillers. Sleep quietly claims him again, and he relaxes, body turning toward her ever so slightly as he drifts off. ]
[ emma promised she'd stay, and she does. she even drifts off herself, if only for a short nap, because she honestly hasn't felt so relaxed and at-ease since the whole trouble with bogue started. he quiets her nerves and uncertainties with the warmth of his presence in their link , just like the contact does, and that's meaningful enough to let her rest.
(because she certainly needs it.)
unfortunately, it's only a couple hours later before a nurse is coming to check in, to let her know that the window for visitors is nearly closed. emma's about to protest, but then she quickly realizes that, in the eyes of the hospital, it isn't her place to stay. she isn't faraday's wife, isn't family at all, so she inevitably has to step out.
...as much as she doesn't want to.
reluctantly (oh-so reluctantly), she gets to her feet, tentatively prying her fingers away from faraday. she doesn't want to disturb him, what with how badly he needs the rest, but she does pause for a moment.
with his eyes still closed, she's bold enough to lean over—
—and press the softest of kisses to his forehead. ]
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[ in fact, it's good. she feels so intensely relaxed in a way she's never managed in the past, even with matthew — which is indicative of exactly how much faraday affects her.
she brushes her thumb gently across the back of his hand, relishing in the prickles of sensation in her skin, in her mark, and just— in her. it's like a part of her has finally meshed with something she's missed, and that something...seems to be the man laying opposite her in the hospital bed.
through the link, she can feel how sleep pulls at him, how exhausted (but clearly relaxed) his body is. ]
You can go back to sleep, if you need it. I'll stay put.
[ if he wants her to. if he doesn't, she could come back at another time (as much as she doesn't want to break this connection). ]
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Please.
[ Little more than a whisper, but with an earnestness he’s rarely (if ever) used before today. Another barely-there squeeze of his hand against hers, as that sense of comfort drifts over him, warm and thick like blankets on a winter evening.
Exhaustion isn’t new – not since he’s been lying in this bed, hooked up to all manner of machines. Now, at least, he has that sense of ease, of serenity to smooth away the grating edge of it, to soften the pain that slips past the effects of the painkillers. Sleep quietly claims him again, and he relaxes, body turning toward her ever so slightly as he drifts off. ]
no subject
(because she certainly needs it.)
unfortunately, it's only a couple hours later before a nurse is coming to check in, to let her know that the window for visitors is nearly closed. emma's about to protest, but then she quickly realizes that, in the eyes of the hospital, it isn't her place to stay. she isn't faraday's wife, isn't family at all, so she inevitably has to step out.
...as much as she doesn't want to.
reluctantly (oh-so reluctantly), she gets to her feet, tentatively prying her fingers away from faraday. she doesn't want to disturb him, what with how badly he needs the rest, but she does pause for a moment.
with his eyes still closed, she's bold enough to lean over—
—and press the softest of kisses to his forehead. ]