Heidi Petrelli (walks_again) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-07-30 02:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | heidi petrelli, nathan petrelli, thread |
who| Heidi and Nathan Petrelli.
what| Sneaking in to see her sleeping husband.
where| The Hyperion; LA
when| Evening; After Nathan has completed the Bar.
rating| F for Fluff.
status| Complete!
When Heidi thought about it at any great length, and she frequently did, it had been incrediably inconsiderate of The Powers That Refused To Mind Their Own Damn Business to drop the Hotel Harlot into the city just when Nathan was staring down the barrel of the Barr. Even more infuriating was that it coincided with a period in which she'd been begining to feel almost comfortable again, but she took that less personally, as the Great Tart had probably been brought along with the intention of spiting her philanderous husband; rather than hammering her self-esteem further into the ground.
Not that it hadn't done just that. She resented the sudden landslide of insecurity, the constant sensations of worry and doubt worming their way between her head and stomach all day long; squirming on the edges of her awareness no matter how hard she tried to distract herself. The oil-and-water combination of wanting to be as near Nathan as possible without making a nuisance or display of herself, and being unable to maintain said proximity without ultimately barraging herself with resentment and doubt wasn't just painful, it was yank-out-your-hair-frustrating.
Still, the studying had afforded her some semblance of seperation. Between Charlie's strict orders for silence and being kept busy with the boys, they hadn't been in eachother's company for more than five minutes until the completion of the test. Heidi had decided a calculated risk could be taken, and had been waiting at the bottom of the courthouse steps with the boys when Nathan had emerged. Prepped with confetti, they had been eager to litter when he reached the bottom, throwing the biggest fistfulls they could and whooping excitedly before bum-rushing him in a flurry of paper bits and eager arms. Sarah had managed to distract them, but you could only keep Simon and Monty from their father for so long before they began to go stir-crazy.
Now, with the two finally detached from Nathan and tucked securely between the sheets, Heidi was sneaking out one door and in through another. With Peter on patroll, there was only one passed-out Petrelli in the room. She tip-toed across the floor to the bed, though given Nathan's sprawled and still mostly-dressed state, it was an unnecessary consideration. It was a familiar sight, as frequently as he had come home from the firm in a state of thorough exhaustion, or simply fallen asleep atop a stack of paperwork in the office, and it was enough to turn her mixed emotions aside. He had accomplished something that, in her mind, was a bigger feat than flying; especially when how far he had fallen in past months was taken into consideration.
And she was proud of him.
Heidi undid the loosened tie from around his neck, and carefully removed the watch from his wrist, and set them both on the bedside table. He'd remembered to take off his shoes and jacket, but the belt had remained. That took a little more skill to remove without waking him, but aided by years of experience and the degree to which his lights were out, she managed it. Satisfied that there was nothing left for him to roll over onto or make funny imprints in his skin with, she brushed away a few stubborn pieces of confetti that had stuck in his hair. She stood back and observed her sleeping husband, watching the way this muscle or that would twitch in his sleep; the half-hearted look of concentration that threatened to take over his face every few moments. He was probably still reciting torts and bubbling circles in his head.
Toeing off her shoes, Heidi slipped between the covers. A small gap of mattress stayed between them, but she let her hand sneak over to rest on his chest; unsure of wether she wanted to let him know she was there, or if she was just trying to reassure herself for the very last time that there were no bulletholes beneath his shirt. Her thumb followed the feel of his rib, moving back and forth along it to keep herself awake. She could stay there for a few hours, she thought, every other blink bringing her eyelids up shorter, and still be back in the other bedroom before anyone was awake.