"Might be while," she says with a quiet laugh, sleepily curling herself around him as close as possible on reflex alone. There's the softest sigh of relief as his hand finds her hair, like his fingers in her hair were something she needed desperately. The lift and drop of it felt entirely too good and made her feel, well, safe as much as being tucked close to him did. Ril really missed physical contact like this so much it's a little startling, even for her. But she supposes it's not at all startling in the end. Most Antedans thrive on physical contact,though Ril probably does so more than usual.
Her own fingers touch his cheek lightly as if that somehow was the crux in convincing her he really was real. Ril hopes this time won't devolve into nightmares, at least not the painful ones.
"No more leaving," she half grumbles and it sounds like a lazy, harmless threat.
"I'll live," he replies, his chuckle deep and rich as it rumbles in his chest. He's gotten to know Ril enough to know that she needs contact like this, and really, what would it hurt? It's completely harmless. Probably wouldn't look harmless if someone came in, but it isn't likely to happen. People usually knock. Even Clem knocks, even if she's had a nightmare.
He presses his cheek into her hand, closing his eyes with a sigh. Yes, perhaps he needs the contact just as much. He's felt so alone...
"I'll try," he replies, letting his fingers go deep enough into her hair that he lazily massages her scalp with his fingertips, "Now sleep, Ril. I promise I'll be here when you wake up."
"If you do have to go, wake me, or," she says and then lets out an appreciate hum because his fingers feel very, very good, and she has always been especially fond of that. "Leave me a text or something. Just. Just so I know."
Her palm curves against his cheek and the thumb brushes out gently. It doesn't really last for long, since the more his fingertips move, the more she falls asleep.
He gazes down at her with a soft smile, realizing that it's pretty wonderful, being back in Asgard. Yes, it can be extremely painful, and sometimes terrifying, but no moreso than the way his life is going back home. Something seems to be building between the Daleks and the Time Lords, and now that his memories of Asgard have returned, he's fairly certain he knows what that something is. It hasn't happened yet, but the Time War must be just on the horizon. Yes, this is much better than all that. No matter how painful it can be.
"I promise," he murmurs to her, nuzzling her palm.
He gulps a little awkwardly when the peace of the moment gives him time to notice their proximity. Fingers stroke through the smooth strands of her hair and then down to her cheek, ghosting over the freckles there.
The awkwardness doesn't last too long, however, before exhaustion hits him and his fingers slow to a stop and he drifts off.
There is no awkwardness on Ril's part and the way she wraps herself around him is uniquely her, tangled up in him, like an unconscious bid to keep him anchored to her, and to Asgard.
She stays awake only long enough to make sure he's properly asleep and hopes it takes this time. And that neither of them will wake screaming. Ril knows she'll bury it down the best she can. Nightmares are constant companions on so many different levels, even before all of this. The warmth and weight of him against her is a bittersweet ache, pulling her down into sleep that will be fragmented as usual, but ultimately will be sleep.
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Her own fingers touch his cheek lightly as if that somehow was the crux in convincing her he really was real. Ril hopes this time won't devolve into nightmares, at least not the painful ones.
"No more leaving," she half grumbles and it sounds like a lazy, harmless threat.
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He presses his cheek into her hand, closing his eyes with a sigh. Yes, perhaps he needs the contact just as much. He's felt so alone...
"I'll try," he replies, letting his fingers go deep enough into her hair that he lazily massages her scalp with his fingertips, "Now sleep, Ril. I promise I'll be here when you wake up."
no subject
Her palm curves against his cheek and the thumb brushes out gently. It doesn't really last for long, since the more his fingertips move, the more she falls asleep.
no subject
"I promise," he murmurs to her, nuzzling her palm.
He gulps a little awkwardly when the peace of the moment gives him time to notice their proximity. Fingers stroke through the smooth strands of her hair and then down to her cheek, ghosting over the freckles there.
The awkwardness doesn't last too long, however, before exhaustion hits him and his fingers slow to a stop and he drifts off.
no subject
She stays awake only long enough to make sure he's properly asleep and hopes it takes this time. And that neither of them will wake screaming. Ril knows she'll bury it down the best she can. Nightmares are constant companions on so many different levels, even before all of this. The warmth and weight of him against her is a bittersweet ache, pulling her down into sleep that will be fragmented as usual, but ultimately will be sleep.