Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-06-15 14:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !thread, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul |
Steal some covers, share some skin, clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable...
Who: Aspel & Ari.
What: The aftermath of the battle (aka Confusion Is Still Confusing)
Where: Aspel's apartment
When: This afternoon, around 2:00pm
Rating: PG-13-ish
Status: Complete~!
Mornings had never been Ari's forte on the best of days, but this particular morning seemed especially challenging. She surfaced into consciousness sluggishly, slowly becoming aware of sore and fatigued muscles before she managed to crack one eye open. The clock on the nightstand told her it was just after two - not quite morning, then - and the bed and room in which she found herself were not her own. Shades were drawn, casting the room into semi-darkness, but she could still make out the details as she sat up slowly, pushing the blanket off of her chest. As her thoughts became a little more coherent, she even knew where she was and, despite the end of the night being buried in a haze of fatigue, why. They had made it back only when the sky was already graying with the light of pre-dawn, battered and exhausted; she vaguely recalled Aspel pressing a potion into her hands along with a towel and a folded tunic. She had washed her face and hands as best she could, tossed her ruined and bloody clothing in a heap on the bathroom floor, wiped the crusted blood from her ribs, and donned the tunic. All things considered, she had been tired enough not to protest the couch, but had not complained when Aspel pulled her into the bed instead. She had been asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Now, she ran a hand through her hair - a wreck, which was to be expected - and yawned, and tried to understand why she had been left here all alone. Rehearsal had started two hours ago, and her communicator was no doubt blinking with a hundred messages, but she just couldn't be bothered to care about any of that. She cleared her throat; her vocal cords felt fragile, but she didn't seem to have done herself any serious damage which a day of rest and a hot beverage couldn't solve. And speaking of that beverage... She rose from the bed, grateful that the tunic hung almost to her knees, and padded barefoot out into the living room, where the unexpected but welcome aroma of something baking assaulted her senses. She followed the scent and the sounds of movement to the kitchen. There was a plate of fruit on the table - peaches, she saw, of course it was peaches, the woman forgot nothing - and she spotted Aspel at last, at the stove. "Good m - afternoon, isn't it," she said, her voice a little hoarse to her own ears, though she did summon up a genuine smile, even if it was undoubtedly tired around the edges. |