emyli parker is addicted (rudeandcrude) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-01-19 16:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-10-01, emyli, toby |
i walked with you once upon a dream
WHO | Emyli & Toby
WHERE | T.J & Toby's home → Dream Land
WHEN | Late late night
A heavy sigh blew past her lips and she stretched her arms out over her head, arching her back as she did so. The loose material of the t-shirt she wore slid easily upwards with the motion, but Emyli didn't readjust the shirt or the sheets to cover herself. Her legs were bare, one tucked neatly beneath the sheet while the other lay on top of the threadbare sheet. The toes of her exposed foot wiggled slightly, the chipped polish absorbing the light from the blinking alarm clock. It amused her to know that the clock sat there, draining energy but kept the wrong time. She didn't know if it was broken or if Toby had just never gotten around to setting it; the reason hardly mattered, but the fact of it still made her lips twitch upwards in a near-smile. Her hand came up past the edge of the sheet and tucked under the material of the shirt she had scrounged up from Toby's floor. Her fingers reached the fraying edges of the bandage tape that held gauze to her side. Though she felt secure enough lying between Toby and the wall, she couldn't stop her thoughts from straying towards Eileen and what she must have done with that vial of blood she'd collected.
She shivered despite the air being warm, even stuffy.
This was usually the time that Emyli downed another pill or asked Toby for something a little stronger than the weed in his back pocket. She turned, rolling slightly in the bed and propping her head up so that she could look at Toby in the neon blue light of the pointless alarm clock. He was sleeping deeply; she thought she could almost hear the way his heart beat in the silence between his breaths. She didn't know what she would do without him. Friends were little more than people she hooked up and got high with, but Toby was something else entirely. She could depend on him. No matter what. Maybe he was the only true friend she'd ever had in life. Maybe he was the only one she would ever have.
She wondered what sorts of dreams he'd had.
After all that he'd done for her, it almost seemed wrong to take a peek, to consume anything that went on in his head. It seemed backwards, incestuous even. She reasoned that she needed something to take the edge away, something to chase away the haunting thoughts of Eileen and daggers in the night. She leaned forward, careful not to make a sound or move so that he'd wake, and gently pressed her lips to soft, warm flesh just beneath his ear. It was a gesture she'd done earlier in the night, though with a different motivation and force behind it, and now the contact of skin was barely a whisper but just enough to give her a way into his mind.