[ 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. ]
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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.