"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 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.