[ for the first time in a long time, she doesn't dream.
they often vary between night terrors, pleasantly faraway and hazy memories, or completely nonsensical shit depending on what kind of painkillers or alcohol she drinks the night before but — nothing tonight. and if not endlessly chasing after something (or someone) and waking up more exhausted than before she fell asleep isn't the best feeling in the world, she doesn't know what is.
or she might, now that she's finally being roused awake by the sun (that's beating down on her face by the way). yelena is used to sleeping alone, unless she's home with fanny then the foot of her bed is very much occupado by her trustworthy, furry companion but otherwise — she is used to having a bed to herself. or a chair, or the floor.
what she's not used to is the warmth of another human being pressed against her back. nor is she used to having an arm wrapped around her stomach (that is now bare, by the way, because the shirt kept riding up while she settled on a comfortable sleeping position) in a manner that isn't threatening to her life in any way, shape or form. it's just, there — and so is her hand, resting on top of his own hand to keep it where it is.
and then she is suddenly very aware of where his mouth is and it makes all the blood rush to her cheeks — she almost even smiles to herself. so, maybe this isn't so bad. it's... nice. normalcy is, surprisingly, something they're capable of falling into. although, it is just as easy for them to step out of it because she remembers the suture he performed on her no more than ten hours ago. yelena makes the most minute of movements and intertwines their fingers in a gentle effort to pull his arm off of her so she can at least go and use the bathroom but she also doesn't want to wake him?? ]
no subject
they often vary between night terrors, pleasantly faraway and hazy memories, or completely nonsensical shit depending on what kind of painkillers or alcohol she drinks the night before but — nothing tonight. and if not endlessly chasing after something (or someone) and waking up more exhausted than before she fell asleep isn't the best feeling in the world, she doesn't know what is.
or she might, now that she's finally being roused awake by the sun (that's beating down on her face by the way). yelena is used to sleeping alone, unless she's home with fanny then the foot of her bed is very much occupado by her trustworthy, furry companion but otherwise — she is used to having a bed to herself. or a chair, or the floor.
what she's not used to is the warmth of another human being pressed against her back. nor is she used to having an arm wrapped around her stomach (that is now bare, by the way, because the shirt kept riding up while she settled on a comfortable sleeping position) in a manner that isn't threatening to her life in any way, shape or form. it's just, there — and so is her hand, resting on top of his own hand to keep it where it is.
and then she is suddenly very aware of where his mouth is and it makes all the blood rush to her cheeks — she almost even smiles to herself. so, maybe this isn't so bad. it's... nice. normalcy is, surprisingly, something they're capable of falling into. although, it is just as easy for them to step out of it because she remembers the suture he performed on her no more than ten hours ago. yelena makes the most minute of movements and intertwines their fingers in a gentle effort to pull his arm off of her so she can at least go and use the bathroom but she also doesn't want to wake him?? ]