| Blood Will Make It Right [closed to Ryouma and Tsume] | [Nov. 30th, 2008|05:25 pm] |
[[Set the day after The Safest Place You've Found, Gestalt, and Ryouma's journal entry of March 6.]]
Ryouma had never considered himself much of a morning person. True, there was that whole exciting vista of a brand-new day spread out before him, but facing it generally involved getting out of bed. When Tsume slipped out, sometime after dawn, he rolled over, mumbling something incoherent, and snuggled into the pillow she left behind.
Then he smelled coffee, and woke up properly.
Tsume was puttering between bathroom and kitchen, hair still mussed from sleep, toothbrush wagging in the corner of her mouth. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow to watch. She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment to rinse and spit; when she wandered out again, she was raking her fingers through her hair, sorting the messy locks into some approximation of order. Silent in thick woolen socks, she padded back to the tiny kitchen-nook to check the coffeepot and fetch down a mug. Even in the overlarge tee-shirt she'd slept in, standing on tiptoe and reaching over her head, she was one long lean line of muscle and elegance.
Ryouma grinned at the world in general. "Putting the mugs on the top shelf was my best idea ever," he said, and sat the rest of the way up. "Did you make enough for me?" |
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