[ She likes him. She likes him, and the confirmation tickles him, leaves him beaming all over again, marveling at Hope and offering every scratch he can, until nausea rises sharper and he’s aware of hands and a glass, hands and those not-quite-magic sort-of-effective tablets.
He can take the aspirin. Step one, step two, that’s the aspirin and the water both, and he can’t say the water doesn’t feel welcome, though something stronger’d be even better.
Save that thought for a moment. Pin it, because right now he’s pausing between sips of water, looking back at Hope, darting a playful touch and then another rub against her cheek. And he’s smiling again; all this pain in his head, and he keeps fuckin smiling. ]
She’s a good kid.
[ Spoken with all the warmth in the world. Look at her with her easy assurance, the lull of her body and perfect arc of a side-stretch.
He’d like to introduce her to Amaryllis. (He’d like Amaryllis to come home.) Amaryllis doesn’t always get along with other pets, but Treavor things maybe she and Hope’d be a match. They’ve got a sort of shared shimmer. A sort of spirited majesty, capable of love maybe not everyone sees, but love that’s stronger than most of those assholes’ll ever know.
Well. Someday, maybe.
(If. Alice lets him see her again.)
(If Alice doesn’t mind him seeing her again?)
((Why doesn’t Alice seem to mind him here? And how’s it so easy to sit with the guy he’s been haphazardly not-quite-thinkingly grudging against for weeks? And why hasn’t Alice kicked him the fuck out (and why is there something soothing about looking at the guy, like a little, little promise of tranquility)?))
((This is a weird situation, huh?)
(But not a bad one.))
He tries to look around, winces. ]
Jesus, my head.
[ Shit, maybe he shouldn’t curse around Lady? Maybe he shouldn’t take the whatever and savior’s name in vain in front of this little saint.
…Or maybe she’s a saint who knows how to party. Hmm, it’s a thought, right?
There’s the urge again to ask about a drink - is Alice sure there’s nothing in the house, or hey, where’re Treavor’s clothes, did he have something stored away? - but Treavor looks over at the guy and the question dissipates. Fades in an instant, leaving Treavor puzzled, knowing he was about to speak but finding no shape of intended words.
Not like that’s gonna stop him from saying something. ]
Thanks for the. Clothes.
[ Whatever he’s wearing right now. It’s definitely nothing he owns. He feels like a sort of… Pajama businessman right now? This guy’s sure got particular tastes, huh? (And maybe, maybe it’s a little not un-charming.)) ]
Also the— Aspirin. Sleep.
[ Okay that’s definitely decidedly enough talking for now. He clenches his eyes shut, tries not to think, tries to feel something like cool, something like calm. He’ll take another drink in a moment. (Look for stronger drink in a moment.) He’ll come back to the room in a moment. But right at this moment he’s just gonna. Hold steady.
(And maybe take a little strength knowing that nearby there's a real real good cat, and a guy who offered a place to sleep, a drink of water, who hasn't left Treavor scrambling and drowned.) ]
no subject
He can take the aspirin. Step one, step two, that’s the aspirin and the water both, and he can’t say the water doesn’t feel welcome, though something stronger’d be even better.
Save that thought for a moment. Pin it, because right now he’s pausing between sips of water, looking back at Hope, darting a playful touch and then another rub against her cheek. And he’s smiling again; all this pain in his head, and he keeps fuckin smiling. ]
She’s a good kid.
[ Spoken with all the warmth in the world. Look at her with her easy assurance, the lull of her body and perfect arc of a side-stretch.
He’d like to introduce her to Amaryllis. (He’d like Amaryllis to come home.) Amaryllis doesn’t always get along with other pets, but Treavor things maybe she and Hope’d be a match. They’ve got a sort of shared shimmer. A sort of spirited majesty, capable of love maybe not everyone sees, but love that’s stronger than most of those assholes’ll ever know.
Well. Someday, maybe.
(If. Alice lets him see her again.)
(If Alice doesn’t mind him seeing her again?)
((Why doesn’t Alice seem to mind him here? And how’s it so easy to sit with the guy he’s been haphazardly not-quite-thinkingly grudging against for weeks? And why hasn’t Alice kicked him the fuck out (and why is there something soothing about looking at the guy, like a little, little promise of tranquility)?))
((This is a weird situation, huh?)
(But not a bad one.))
He tries to look around, winces. ]
Jesus, my head.
[ Shit, maybe he shouldn’t curse around Lady? Maybe he shouldn’t take the whatever and savior’s name in vain in front of this little saint.
…Or maybe she’s a saint who knows how to party. Hmm, it’s a thought, right?
There’s the urge again to ask about a drink - is Alice sure there’s nothing in the house, or hey, where’re Treavor’s clothes, did he have something stored away? - but Treavor looks over at the guy and the question dissipates. Fades in an instant, leaving Treavor puzzled, knowing he was about to speak but finding no shape of intended words.
Not like that’s gonna stop him from saying something. ]
Thanks for the. Clothes.
[ Whatever he’s wearing right now. It’s definitely nothing he owns. He feels like a sort of… Pajama businessman right now? This guy’s sure got particular tastes, huh? (And maybe, maybe it’s a little not un-charming.)) ]
Also the— Aspirin. Sleep.
[ Okay that’s definitely decidedly enough talking for now. He clenches his eyes shut, tries not to think, tries to feel something like cool, something like calm. He’ll take another drink in a moment. (Look for stronger drink in a moment.) He’ll come back to the room in a moment. But right at this moment he’s just gonna. Hold steady.
(And maybe take a little strength knowing that nearby there's a real real good cat, and a guy who offered a place to sleep, a drink of water, who hasn't left Treavor scrambling and drowned.) ]