[ Now that's a rare smile, and he stills a little. Funny, how it sends a warm sort of fluttering in his chest, and he's unsure what to make of it, unsure what, exactly, that strange little feeling is, or why he suddenly thinks, I'd like to see that smile again.
He clears his throat quietly, shoving the thought away. He settles back onto the bed (though the bed seems none the wiser for it), and watches as she shuffles the cards again. More successful, and he offers an approving nod. ]
Better, that time. With a bit of practice, you probably won't be liable to send cards every which way.
[ emma gives him that flat little look as she neatens up the deck again, gives it the appearance that she's cut it, like he showed her. ]
I'll have you know I don't often make a habit of throwin' cards across the room.
[ she just happened to have a little slip-up there, but she repeats the shuffling, tries to be a little more subtle about hiding the cut — selling it, like he'd said. she's more focused on the cards while she repeats the moves, finally glancing up at faraday when she can do it faster, smoother. ]
See? Not a single card's gone out of my hands.
[ she looks pleased with herself, because after that mishap, she'd felt the need to prove she wasn't just a clumsy mess with a deck of cards, that she could certainly handle shuffling them properly — and work on the trick, too. ]
I'll take your word for it, considerin' I've never seen a deck of cards in your hands till tonight.
[ He smiles approvingly at the improvement – and it was quite an improvement in such short time. Must be that competitive streak in her again, the one he glimpsed earlier in the evening; that little need to prove herself, and Faraday can't exactly fault her for it. ]
Pretty.
[ He nods to the cards, turning sideways to face her on the bed, one leg drawn up on the mattress. ]
[ emma's expression is...genuinely lighter, actual warmth in her eyes as she shifts the way she's siting on the bed, moves forward just a touch so they're facing each other more — easier for him to check what she's doing, she reckons. really, she seems to be enjoying herself, and considering how this evening had been previously, how terribly haunted she'd been by those nightmares of hers, this is a dramatic improvement.
with faraday to thank for it.
she looks up at his face once more, smile in the corner of her lips, before she's focusing again on the cards. pulling up at the center, she neatly riffles them together, arches them into a cascade, but refrains from pushing them back into the deck. she moves her hands deftly — not so fast to lose her grip on the cards — but manages the fake cut before producing them again, with the same card on top. ]
[ Faraday is suitably impressed with how well she's picked up the trick, watching as she moves the cards with more skill than he would've thought of her mere minutes ago. Playing cards tended to invoke a particular image – smoke-filled saloons soaked through with whiskey and gin, drunken men gambling their lives away. Little wonder most folks tended to shy away from it, saw cards as playthings of the Devil, as silly as it seemed.
He had assumed the same of Emma – not that he would've blamed her for it. But she was a practical woman, had a good head on her shoulders, and Faraday thinks he should've known better.
Leaning forward a little, chin resting in his hand, Faraday watches each move closely. Spots little hesitations here and there that would give her away, were this a real performance, but in all, it's a good attempt, considering she's been at this for less than an hour. As she completes the cut, drops one packet atop the other, Faraday grins up at her. ]
Beautifully done. Couple more days of practice, and we might make a decent card sharp out of you, yet.
[ the cards are set lightly back on the bed, and emma just leans against the wall with a slow, relaxed sigh. she looks— better from a mere hour ago when she'd been a shaking, breathless mess, and the tension that had been wringing her so terribly is clearly gone (or at least far lessened). she doesn't look like such a pale, sweating wreck anymore, something she's grateful for, since she feels less like she's letting that weakness through again.
the smile she gives faraday is much the same as before: small, but genuine and warm, with a hint of tiredness behind it (but not the bone-deep exhaustion from before). ]
Perhaps I'll even give you a run for your money when it comes to cards, Mister Faraday.
[ there's that soft tease again, but then her expression is a little more somber, not so light when she adds, ]
...thank you. If I— haven't managed that courtesy yet: thank you.
[ He huffs out a quick laugh at her comment, watching as she settles back. She looks a damn sight better than she did when he first arrived at her side; the color's returned to her face, her shallow breaths have evened out, and— look at that. That smile again, that rare, little thing that sets warmth licking in his chest.
He swallows thickly, eyes cast down as he takes the cards in hand. He cuts them idly spinning packets one way, then the other, without any real purpose in mind. Easier to do this than think on that strange feeling.
Her thanks earns a quick glance before his gaze darts back down to the cards in his hands. ]
You're welcome.
[ The words are slightly stilted, unsure, like he's not quite used to receiving thanks of any kind. ]
Least I could do.
[ He runs his thumb over the short side of the deck, the cards snapping as they riffle together, and he adds teasingly, ]
Don't go assumin' that just because I'm showin' you some new tricks means I'll teach you everything I know, by the way. A man's gotta have some secrets.
I hear secrets keep a man interestin' — or something to that effect.
[ she gives a soft chuckle as she gathers her hair gently over her shoulder, combing her fingers through the knots that had sprung up, thanks to the previous tossing and turning. she figures she should probably braid it, do something to keep it out of the way, or at least out of her face until the morning.
emma's content to watch faraday cut and shuffle the cards, always impressed by the ease with which he moves the cards — not quite so smoothly as he had in life, she sees from watching him, but the fact that he can even pick the cards up, sustainably hold them, amazes her. she gently plaits her hair over her shoulder as he riffles the cards, giving her a chance to admire his speed, even for a ghost. ]
It's gotten much easier for you to do things like this, hasn't it?
[ He takes a small cut from the top, swivels the short edge around his index finger, brings the packet below, around, then back atop the deck – a move meant to confound and impress, and one of his favored tricks in life. Showing off a bit, apparently, now that he has an audience. ]
I find I have an abundance of time with which to practice.
[ It's odd, how comfortable he feels with her – and maybe at another time, he'd notice how close they are, make some teasing comment on how completely inappropriate their current position is to make her blush. Faraday, sitting on her bed, barely an arm's breadth away, while she sits in her nightclothes, wrapped in blankets.
As it stands, there's a relaxed nature to the atmosphere, something easy in the warm light of the fire and the lamp, and it slips his notice. He watches her braid her hair for a moment, the cards still moving in his hands – a simple, legitimate overhand shuffle, this time. ]
Can't do the really fancy stuff yet, though, but I think I'm getting there.
[ emma's clearly entertained by the more impressive shuffling, not minding in the slightest that he's showing off for her; she's happy to watch, because it's another gentle distraction from the rough turn of her evening. she's starting to feel the exhaustion again, mostly because what sleep she had gotten hadn't been especially restful, but she's not truly drifting off — not yet.
she probably ought to be noticing the odd closeness they're sharing now, with him actually sitting on her bed, but noticing that would have to include acknowledging that she's comfortable with having him there, that she isn't unsettled by his presence. she's hardly put out by the fact that, were he more human, she could just reach right out and touch him, but— she can't. she knows that. ]
You're doin' better than I thought you might.
[ not because she doesn't think he's capable, but because she'd been concerned over his disappearances, how he hadn't been solid enough to touch things in the living world — like he'd just been a superimposed image, instead of a person.
that gives her a bit of pause, and she realizes there's a question that's bothered her lately. ]
...do you vanish quite so much anymore?
[ she tends to assume these days that if he isn't by her side, he's found something else to do in town, somewhere else to explore; he otherwise stays so well grounded that she's almost forgotten he did disappear against his will before. ]
Better'n I thought I might, too, all things considered.
[ For a while there, he thought he would simply be this, some incorporeal thing just barely more than nothing. A voice and a moving image, visible and audible only to Emma Cullen. And, well, as nice as the company is and has been, he thinks if that's all he was capable of, it might very well have driven him mad with boredom alone.
The cards snap quietly against themselves as he riffles them, then he sets into shuffling them overhand again with a quiet brush of movement. ]
Not so much, no. Not like the first days, anymore.
[ Not like after he had first died, when he would materialize for a handful of seconds, then simply drop away in little more than a blink. Then, some days later, he would reappear with only a vague recollection of what transpired, a distant sense of time having passed. He doesn't recall having dropped away like that in more recent days, for which he's grateful. At least he feels he has a semblance of control over himself. ]
Tend to choose when I come and go, now. Kinda wander around the town, now that I'm a little more... stable, I suppose you'd call it.
[ He smirks a little as he adds, ]
Not causin' too much trouble, if that's what you're worried about.
[ Not much. Just the occasional spooked horse, or a chair pushed a handful of inches back, just as someone means to sit down. ]
[ if emma's honest, she doesn't entirely understand why she feels some sort of relief that faraday is more capable of interacting with the world, even in the state he remains. far as she knows, she's the only one still seeing him, but even so far as his ability to lift and move things now — that's a big change. even his ability to handle these physical cards, while she's certain it takes all kinds of concentration, is amazing in its own right. he isn't just lifting them and moving them around; there's a dexterity to it, though she finds it near comical that were someone to see him with the deck, it would just look like the cards were shuffling themselves mid-air.
kind of funny, really.
she listens with a small nod, but gives him one of those Looks, like she wants him to know for certain that she'd not approve of too many shenanigans. ]
Good. These people don't need any extra ghosts givin' them more to worry over.
[ the ones who lived through the ordeal with bogue...well, she's sure they all have more than a few of their own to live with — even if they're not quite so literally haunted as emma. ]
Though I've already accepted you're goin' to keep up making my life difficult here instead.
[ it's obvious by the quirk in her lips that she's not being serious — giving him a hard time, more like — even as she reaches up to rub at her heavy eyes, trying her damnedest not to yawn. ]
[ Maybe one of these days, he’ll grow restless of speaking only to Emma, or she’ll grow tired of his near constant presence, and maybe one of these days, their conflicting personalities will inevitably have them sparking off one another like a bullet ricocheting off a thick steel plate. For now, though, he’s content. Comfortable in a way he hasn’t been since he was probably a child.
It wasn’t something he ever expected for himself, much less with Emma. He’d spent so long running with the Devil hot on his heels that he’d forgotten how it felt, having something of a place. It’s— not so terrible, for now.
He snaps the cards pointedly at her teasing, his expression turning unimpressed and flat. ]
I’ve been lenient, so far, but test me too much, and you may wake up one morning to find your house rearranged.
[ The curl of his lips gives him away, though – he’s not especially serious. The cards still in his hands when he notices the way she rubs at her eyes, and he frowns a little. ]
Morning’s still a long ways off. You sure you shouldn’t be trying to get some sleep?
Anything you move, Faraday, you best believe you'll be puttin' it right back again.
[ she tries to give him a stern glare, but it's somewhat belied by the smile still twinkling in the corner of her eyes. (of course, she does actually mean it: if faraday rearranges the house, she'll definitely be expecting him to fix it, especially if he manages to get things in exceedingly odd places.
like maybe on the ceiling.)
the sobering of his expression is mirrored on her own face, and she looks...almost uncertain for a moment. ]
I don't much care to resume those dreams of mine.
[ if she can avoid it, she absolutely will — but she's also not entirely convinced she'll have to worry quite so much about the nightmares. she's much more at ease, less plagued by the consistent flashes of memory; in fact, it's all but in the back of her mind, where it ought to be. ]
[ Her warning is met with a quick little smirk, something that says, Try and make me.
But she looks worn, he thinks. Tired. And given the hour, he’s none too surprised. He understands her reluctance, though, having experienced the same, time and time again. Nightmares grasping for him during his waking hours, just on the edge but close enough that he could feel coldness brushing against the back of his neck. He’d hate to return to them, just as much she would.
Still, there’s a certain structure and routine to Emma’s life that Faraday lacked in his. He made about half of his money hustling, the other half taking up odd jobs, which meant he could while away his sleeplessness at a card table. He wouldn’t make as much, granted, but it was better than hard labor. Not quite the case, here, where practicality reigns supreme, and he picks up the cards off the bed, moves to stand. ]
You ought to try and get back to bed. As much I’d enjoy seein’ it, you’ll be no use if you’re stumbling around half-drunk from exhaustion.
[ faraday admittedly has a point: she needs to be alert and ready for her day, and even if emma has gotten used to functioning after less ideal nights' sleep since the worsening of her nightmares, she could still use the rest. she has things to do, after all, and the opportunity to sleep isn't one she ought to pass up.
when he moves to stand, emma straightens slightly on the bed, and the word is out of her mouth before she can stop herself: ]
—stay.
[ it's probably the exhaustion that spurred her to say it, and her cheeks turn a little pink after she realizes she let the word slip. she glances away, partially from embarrassment, partially from a dislike of the small wound to her pride, but she keeps speaking, just to elaborate (or dig herself a deeper hole). ]
At least so you could wake me if I...go right back to dreamin' like that again.
[ having him around puts her at ease, oddly enough, and she thinks that may be enough to lessen the nightmares, to let her get some real rest. ]
[ He stops, if only because of the shock of it, that single, little word. Even without the dim light, he sees the way her face reddens a little, the way her gaze darts away (embarrassment, he decides), and every word she says after that – well, he can tell this is difficult for her, in its way. This small admission of weakness, magnified tenfold by her pride.
Part of him wants to tease, to grin and joke and lessen how serious this all feels, how earnest it is. And he very nearly does, the words forming on the tip of his tongue— but at the very last moment, he swallows them back down. Reconsiders.
(Because he remembers making the same request, remembers an impossible blue sky and the steady grip of her hand in his as numbness washed over him.
Stay with me. Please. Till the end.
What kind of man would he be to not return such a huge favor?)
For a second, Faraday hesitates and licks his lips, though at length he nods slightly. His voice is soft when he says, ]
Alright. I won’t go anywhere.
[ He smiles a little, something fond and reassuring in the expression. ]
[ emma had been near bracing herself for him to brush her off, to find some way to turn her down, but— he doesn't. she looks back at him with a flicker of shock crossing her face, like she can't quite believe that he's agreed to keeping watch while she sleeps (because she knows he's not going to be doing any sleeping himself, so it's not like it's much for entertainment, sticking there beside her). however, the shock gives way to that warmth in her eyes, even if she still looks mildly distraut over asking in the first place. ]
...thank you.
[ her tone is genuine, but with the reassurance that he'll be staying put, she pulls up the blankets and crawls back into bed properly.
she still sleeps on the same side she always did when matthew was alive, like she hasn't even thought to spread out in the bed or roll to the other half; instead, she's curled comfortably on one distinct part, and she just shifts onto her side, looking up at faraday from her pillow. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
He clears his throat quietly, shoving the thought away. He settles back onto the bed (though the bed seems none the wiser for it), and watches as she shuffles the cards again. More successful, and he offers an approving nod. ]
Better, that time. With a bit of practice, you probably won't be liable to send cards every which way.
[ The highest of praise, clearly. ]
no subject
I'll have you know I don't often make a habit of throwin' cards across the room.
[ she just happened to have a little slip-up there, but she repeats the shuffling, tries to be a little more subtle about hiding the cut — selling it, like he'd said. she's more focused on the cards while she repeats the moves, finally glancing up at faraday when she can do it faster, smoother. ]
See? Not a single card's gone out of my hands.
[ she looks pleased with herself, because after that mishap, she'd felt the need to prove she wasn't just a clumsy mess with a deck of cards, that she could certainly handle shuffling them properly — and work on the trick, too. ]
no subject
[ He smiles approvingly at the improvement – and it was quite an improvement in such short time. Must be that competitive streak in her again, the one he glimpsed earlier in the evening; that little need to prove herself, and Faraday can't exactly fault her for it. ]
Pretty.
[ He nods to the cards, turning sideways to face her on the bed, one leg drawn up on the mattress. ]
Try it again.
no subject
with faraday to thank for it.
she looks up at his face once more, smile in the corner of her lips, before she's focusing again on the cards. pulling up at the center, she neatly riffles them together, arches them into a cascade, but refrains from pushing them back into the deck. she moves her hands deftly — not so fast to lose her grip on the cards — but manages the fake cut before producing them again, with the same card on top. ]
How's that, then?
no subject
He had assumed the same of Emma – not that he would've blamed her for it. But she was a practical woman, had a good head on her shoulders, and Faraday thinks he should've known better.
Leaning forward a little, chin resting in his hand, Faraday watches each move closely. Spots little hesitations here and there that would give her away, were this a real performance, but in all, it's a good attempt, considering she's been at this for less than an hour. As she completes the cut, drops one packet atop the other, Faraday grins up at her. ]
Beautifully done. Couple more days of practice, and we might make a decent card sharp out of you, yet.
no subject
the smile she gives faraday is much the same as before: small, but genuine and warm, with a hint of tiredness behind it (but not the bone-deep exhaustion from before). ]
Perhaps I'll even give you a run for your money when it comes to cards, Mister Faraday.
[ there's that soft tease again, but then her expression is a little more somber, not so light when she adds, ]
...thank you. If I— haven't managed that courtesy yet: thank you.
no subject
He swallows thickly, eyes cast down as he takes the cards in hand. He cuts them idly spinning packets one way, then the other, without any real purpose in mind. Easier to do this than think on that strange feeling.
Her thanks earns a quick glance before his gaze darts back down to the cards in his hands. ]
You're welcome.
[ The words are slightly stilted, unsure, like he's not quite used to receiving thanks of any kind. ]
Least I could do.
[ He runs his thumb over the short side of the deck, the cards snapping as they riffle together, and he adds teasingly, ]
Don't go assumin' that just because I'm showin' you some new tricks means I'll teach you everything I know, by the way. A man's gotta have some secrets.
no subject
[ she gives a soft chuckle as she gathers her hair gently over her shoulder, combing her fingers through the knots that had sprung up, thanks to the previous tossing and turning. she figures she should probably braid it, do something to keep it out of the way, or at least out of her face until the morning.
emma's content to watch faraday cut and shuffle the cards, always impressed by the ease with which he moves the cards — not quite so smoothly as he had in life, she sees from watching him, but the fact that he can even pick the cards up, sustainably hold them, amazes her. she gently plaits her hair over her shoulder as he riffles the cards, giving her a chance to admire his speed, even for a ghost. ]
It's gotten much easier for you to do things like this, hasn't it?
[ she nods gently towards the deck. ]
no subject
[ He takes a small cut from the top, swivels the short edge around his index finger, brings the packet below, around, then back atop the deck – a move meant to confound and impress, and one of his favored tricks in life. Showing off a bit, apparently, now that he has an audience. ]
I find I have an abundance of time with which to practice.
[ It's odd, how comfortable he feels with her – and maybe at another time, he'd notice how close they are, make some teasing comment on how completely inappropriate their current position is to make her blush. Faraday, sitting on her bed, barely an arm's breadth away, while she sits in her nightclothes, wrapped in blankets.
As it stands, there's a relaxed nature to the atmosphere, something easy in the warm light of the fire and the lamp, and it slips his notice. He watches her braid her hair for a moment, the cards still moving in his hands – a simple, legitimate overhand shuffle, this time. ]
Can't do the really fancy stuff yet, though, but I think I'm getting there.
no subject
she probably ought to be noticing the odd closeness they're sharing now, with him actually sitting on her bed, but noticing that would have to include acknowledging that she's comfortable with having him there, that she isn't unsettled by his presence. she's hardly put out by the fact that, were he more human, she could just reach right out and touch him, but— she can't. she knows that. ]
You're doin' better than I thought you might.
[ not because she doesn't think he's capable, but because she'd been concerned over his disappearances, how he hadn't been solid enough to touch things in the living world — like he'd just been a superimposed image, instead of a person.
that gives her a bit of pause, and she realizes there's a question that's bothered her lately. ]
...do you vanish quite so much anymore?
[ she tends to assume these days that if he isn't by her side, he's found something else to do in town, somewhere else to explore; he otherwise stays so well grounded that she's almost forgotten he did disappear against his will before. ]
no subject
Better'n I thought I might, too, all things considered.
[ For a while there, he thought he would simply be this, some incorporeal thing just barely more than nothing. A voice and a moving image, visible and audible only to Emma Cullen. And, well, as nice as the company is and has been, he thinks if that's all he was capable of, it might very well have driven him mad with boredom alone.
The cards snap quietly against themselves as he riffles them, then he sets into shuffling them overhand again with a quiet brush of movement. ]
Not so much, no. Not like the first days, anymore.
[ Not like after he had first died, when he would materialize for a handful of seconds, then simply drop away in little more than a blink. Then, some days later, he would reappear with only a vague recollection of what transpired, a distant sense of time having passed. He doesn't recall having dropped away like that in more recent days, for which he's grateful. At least he feels he has a semblance of control over himself. ]
Tend to choose when I come and go, now. Kinda wander around the town, now that I'm a little more... stable, I suppose you'd call it.
[ He smirks a little as he adds, ]
Not causin' too much trouble, if that's what you're worried about.
[ Not much. Just the occasional spooked horse, or a chair pushed a handful of inches back, just as someone means to sit down. ]
no subject
[ if emma's honest, she doesn't entirely understand why she feels some sort of relief that faraday is more capable of interacting with the world, even in the state he remains. far as she knows, she's the only one still seeing him, but even so far as his ability to lift and move things now — that's a big change. even his ability to handle these physical cards, while she's certain it takes all kinds of concentration, is amazing in its own right. he isn't just lifting them and moving them around; there's a dexterity to it, though she finds it near comical that were someone to see him with the deck, it would just look like the cards were shuffling themselves mid-air.
kind of funny, really.
she listens with a small nod, but gives him one of those Looks, like she wants him to know for certain that she'd not approve of too many shenanigans. ]
Good. These people don't need any extra ghosts givin' them more to worry over.
[ the ones who lived through the ordeal with bogue...well, she's sure they all have more than a few of their own to live with — even if they're not quite so literally haunted as emma. ]
Though I've already accepted you're goin' to keep up making my life difficult here instead.
[ it's obvious by the quirk in her lips that she's not being serious — giving him a hard time, more like — even as she reaches up to rub at her heavy eyes, trying her damnedest not to yawn. ]
no subject
[ Maybe one of these days, he’ll grow restless of speaking only to Emma, or she’ll grow tired of his near constant presence, and maybe one of these days, their conflicting personalities will inevitably have them sparking off one another like a bullet ricocheting off a thick steel plate. For now, though, he’s content. Comfortable in a way he hasn’t been since he was probably a child.
It wasn’t something he ever expected for himself, much less with Emma. He’d spent so long running with the Devil hot on his heels that he’d forgotten how it felt, having something of a place. It’s— not so terrible, for now.
He snaps the cards pointedly at her teasing, his expression turning unimpressed and flat. ]
I’ve been lenient, so far, but test me too much, and you may wake up one morning to find your house rearranged.
[ The curl of his lips gives him away, though – he’s not especially serious. The cards still in his hands when he notices the way she rubs at her eyes, and he frowns a little. ]
Morning’s still a long ways off. You sure you shouldn’t be trying to get some sleep?
no subject
[ she tries to give him a stern glare, but it's somewhat belied by the smile still twinkling in the corner of her eyes. (of course, she does actually mean it: if faraday rearranges the house, she'll definitely be expecting him to fix it, especially if he manages to get things in exceedingly odd places.
like maybe on the ceiling.)
the sobering of his expression is mirrored on her own face, and she looks...almost uncertain for a moment. ]
I don't much care to resume those dreams of mine.
[ if she can avoid it, she absolutely will — but she's also not entirely convinced she'll have to worry quite so much about the nightmares. she's much more at ease, less plagued by the consistent flashes of memory; in fact, it's all but in the back of her mind, where it ought to be. ]
no subject
But she looks worn, he thinks. Tired. And given the hour, he’s none too surprised. He understands her reluctance, though, having experienced the same, time and time again. Nightmares grasping for him during his waking hours, just on the edge but close enough that he could feel coldness brushing against the back of his neck. He’d hate to return to them, just as much she would.
Still, there’s a certain structure and routine to Emma’s life that Faraday lacked in his. He made about half of his money hustling, the other half taking up odd jobs, which meant he could while away his sleeplessness at a card table. He wouldn’t make as much, granted, but it was better than hard labor. Not quite the case, here, where practicality reigns supreme, and he picks up the cards off the bed, moves to stand. ]
You ought to try and get back to bed. As much I’d enjoy seein’ it, you’ll be no use if you’re stumbling around half-drunk from exhaustion.
no subject
when he moves to stand, emma straightens slightly on the bed, and the word is out of her mouth before she can stop herself: ]
—stay.
[ it's probably the exhaustion that spurred her to say it, and her cheeks turn a little pink after she realizes she let the word slip. she glances away, partially from embarrassment, partially from a dislike of the small wound to her pride, but she keeps speaking, just to elaborate (or dig herself a deeper hole). ]
At least so you could wake me if I...go right back to dreamin' like that again.
[ having him around puts her at ease, oddly enough, and she thinks that may be enough to lessen the nightmares, to let her get some real rest. ]
If it's— not a bother.
no subject
Part of him wants to tease, to grin and joke and lessen how serious this all feels, how earnest it is. And he very nearly does, the words forming on the tip of his tongue— but at the very last moment, he swallows them back down. Reconsiders.
(Because he remembers making the same request, remembers an impossible blue sky and the steady grip of her hand in his as numbness washed over him.
Stay with me. Please. Till the end.
What kind of man would he be to not return such a huge favor?)
For a second, Faraday hesitates and licks his lips, though at length he nods slightly. His voice is soft when he says, ]
Alright. I won’t go anywhere.
[ He smiles a little, something fond and reassuring in the expression. ]
Get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.
no subject
...thank you.
[ her tone is genuine, but with the reassurance that he'll be staying put, she pulls up the blankets and crawls back into bed properly.
she still sleeps on the same side she always did when matthew was alive, like she hasn't even thought to spread out in the bed or roll to the other half; instead, she's curled comfortably on one distinct part, and she just shifts onto her side, looking up at faraday from her pillow. ]
Goodnight, Joshua.