Major Carol Danvers (major_danvers) wrote in marvel_united, @ 2011-03-28 13:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | ms. marvel, thor |
Warning: Shmoopiness ahead
Who: Carol Danvers and Donald Erik Thor Blake Odinson (he needs to have more names...clearly.)
NPCs: None to start, then airport traffic
Where: Carol's apartment, Brooklyn, NY then JFK Airport
When: Monday, March 28, 2011 - early morning
What: Carol and Thor say goodbye to each other and it is sad. Feel sad for them. Feel it!
Rating: PG?
Sometime in the middle of the night, Carol woke with a start from a bad dream and despite the man sharing her bed, all comfortable and warm, she couldn't for the life of her get back to sleep. The nightmare was gone, but it left her anxious about him leaving, that is, she didn't want him to. And despite that draw of nuzzling into him and having him just hold her, once she was awake, she was wide awake.
She didn't know what she was doing half the time anyways, but this fell completely outside of her realm of knowing how to deal. There was a man sleeping in her bed, more than that, a friend, a comrade, and now a lover and possibly more. And it scared her, truthfully. She was still giddy from the week spent in his company, but now there was a sadness looming over the horizon at the prospect of him leaving. It upset her to think - would this be the end of it?
Thinking like that served no purpose; what did she have to mourn? He was still here, clearly, and he wouldn't be leaving for the next four or five hours at least, she should just make the most of it. And besides, she knew how this all worked - that those in their profession didn't have the luxury of picking and choosing where or when they went; they received their orders and that was that.
Carol pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked down at Blake, sound asleep. She couldn't stay, she needed to go and do something to dispel all of this nervous energy that was mounting. She got up and out of bed, not before relinquishing to him her half of the covers.
Oh God, this was bad...
Sometime after an excessive amount of push-ups and sit-ups and a quick shower later she felt, well, not better about things, but at least hungry now. She bought groceries and wasn't that part of all of this...cook you breakfast on your way out at least...?
She found a bit of a cigar in a junk drawer, which she smoked on casually while she fried up some bacon and eggs, coffee already percolating.