Swallowed up, hold on tight (iateinsane) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-11-12 13:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2018 [11] november, bode coldiron, teagan morgan |
Who Bishop and Teagan
WhereHis tiny house at the Dog Park
When Late morning, November 1st. (backdated)
What Love is a helluva drug.
The sky was dark but you were clear
Could you feel my footsteps?
And would you shatter, would you shatter? Would you?
Fifteen hours. That’s how long Teagan had been passed out in Bishop’s trailer. It was solid. No dreams that she could recall. Just the dead sleep of someone that had been exhausted, stressed out and unbeknownst to her – two months pregnant. When she woke and he wasn’t there beside her she fled down the stairs and opened the door, stepped outside and surveyed what she had hoped was only a bad dream. The nightmare persisted. The Dog Park had been attacked and she had slept away vital hours. She cursed herself and moved back inside so that she could go to the bathroom and throw on the clothes Bishop must have removed to make her more comfortable. The clothes she had at his place were the only things she had now, the only possessions she could call hers and he pants were filthy. The shirt she’d been wearing was filthy. Her cut was fucking filthy. Everything about yesterday was filthy. She sniffed at it and then tried to stop the nausea that threatened when the smell of burnt mess and dried blood made her nostrils burn. Instead she grabbed at the soft flannel Bishop must have switched her up in. One of his. The smell of him was an instant comfort and she covered her face with the sleeves and breathed in as deeply as her lungs would let her. After she realized she was starving. She poked around barefoot, trying to find something that she might eat but came up with a stash of swedish fish and a tin of ice breakers mints. Now, she broke into the mints and placed a coolmint on her tongue but that was hardly a meal. She craved chicken and biscuits and milk. Cream. She wants to drink cream. The door to his place opened after that. She didn’t even need to look behind her to know it was Bishop. She could recognize the sound of him without even peeking. Teagan was going to start off giving him a hard time for allowing her to sleep away as long as she did but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. She needed to be something else right now. She wanted to be everything he needed, coming in from what could only be a war zone outside. There was no room in her today to be mean to him. Not at all. So instead she went for him, turning and abruptly tossing herself at him and giving him a mint crystal kiss. A few hours, that's all Bishop had allowed himself in the way of sleep. While he had argued (and finally won) with Teagan to rest, he had in fact not taken his own advice. The Dog Park was broken, battered, scared and would undoubtedly be looking towards not only their leader, but the officers as well to right the ship. He had slipped out hours after Teagan had drifted off, and the rest of the time was a blur. Bishop had moved from place to place, going wherever extra hands were needed. Bone tired, that's what he was by this point. Yet, it wasn't until one of the old ladies had grabbed him by the arm and gave him a stern look and a ‘Go sleep, Chaplain,” that Bishop had finally found himself admitting to the ache he felt in his muscles and the gritty sleep-deprived feeling in his eyes whenever he blinked. The truth was he wasn't any use to anyone anymore, not like this. Which was how he found himself shuffling back to his trailer, half expecting to find it empty -- Teagan having woken up and dove back into the fray. Except, that wasn't the case. Arms were around him just moments after he entered the small space, and her mouth was pressed against his. Bishop smiled into the kiss, hands settling on her waist as he broke the greeting to murmur. “Feeling better, darlin’?” “I just woke up.” she said, kissing him again despite the dirt and the grime that clung to him. Her fingers were already working at unbuttoning his shirt. Not for any devious purpose other than getting him out of the dust of the disaster and up into bed. She liked to take care of him too just as much as he did her. His voice was exhausted. Even by the way he kissed her and held her she could tell he was dog tired. When she slid his cut and shirt off his arms she touched another kiss to where his heart was beating just under and started working on his pants. “I was looking for something to eat and I’m gonna get it and bring it up to you. Kay?” his pants dropped in a puddle at his feet. “You go wash your face and I’ll be up with somethin’.” She had to kiss him again. Grateful as she was that they were both still here, both still together. If she had lost him she wouldn’t have lasted the night. She couldn’t have recovered from his death. There was a smug smile that bloomed on his features when she admitted to having just woken up. Bishop had been right, she had needed the rest. Despite having been correct, he keeps that thought to himself and instead asked. “Did you sleep well?” As she rid him of the clothing that was caked in the dust and disaster of the last twenty four hours. “Yeah. I think I did.” she glanced up at that twitch of a smirk in his smile, “Come on. Go wash up.” Bishop would have argued and insisted she didn't need to bring him anything, but he knew that was an argument he would he be lost fully rested and in this state, well, he wasn't a match for Teagan. Instead he placed another kiss at the corner of her mouth before making his way up into the bathroom. “There should be jerky in the cupboard,” Bishop called, voice low and thick with his Kentucky accent as he directed her to where she could find something to eat. “Or I think some of the old ladies have cooked something up, I ain't got any clue what it might be.” He continued, stepping out of the bathroom and making his way to the loft, hands grazing against her back as he stepped by her in the small space. She found the jerky and she poked her head outside to find the tin wrapped package that was left. No note but they must have knocked and Teagan mustn’t have heard them. She took it in and opened it up. Inside was a chicken and potato rolls and Teagan couldn’t help but wring her hands together in anticipation. She took the whole thing up with her - beef jerky included - with water and drink and climbed onto the loft for a impromptu bed picnic. There was probably something somewhere that said she was supposed to tell him he looked like shit - all tired and worn out as he did - but she didn’t do that. Teagan thought he looked handsome all spent out on helping them all. “God I never thought I’d love such a good looking man.” she said instead. It was true and she thought making him feel good would help make him better. “Milly’s left some of her potato rolls. They’re cold but I think they’ll do just fine.” https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/23 She set them down for him to pick at first. He’d been out there most of the night, she knew and he needed to eat something before he settled down for some much deserved rest. Bishop's smile is real and genuine as Teagan climbs up into the loft to join him. There ain't a lot of space up there, even less with him occupying the cramped space. Still, he can't deny that this is his favorite place to be with her, packed into his -- theirs now, really -- bed, enjoying the closeness of it. “Milly’s potato rolls are good no matter what,” he answered first, grabbing one of them and taking a bite. Raised with manners, Bishop chewed and swallowed before replying to her first statement. “And careful with those compliments, Spitfire. You might just make my head so big we’ll have to find more space do live in,” he joked, grin shifting into a smirk before he popped the other half of the potato roll into his mouth. He had been a damn bit more hungry than even he had realized, but Bishop held himself in check, wanting to make sure Teagan got her fair share of the food that has been left. “Now, I think really it might be me who's the lucky one. I get to come home to someone who damn near looks like an angel,” he drawled, reaching out for her to pull her in close. “And now you're going to eat some, right? ‘Cause we both know if you don't grab your share now I'm likely to inhale this whole container.” He’s pulled her in closer and she doesn’t mind. It’s good to think of only him and not whatever is happening outside. He’s her sanctuary, her escape from all of the bad and she’ll take as much as she can get before he’s snoring and she’s the one going out and pulling her weight. She takes a potato roll. They’re a good size and she can’t say she has worked up the type of appetite he had sleeping for hours. “Careful with my compliments? I don’t think so. I like you confident and cocky. Let that head grow.” she finally starts eating. It doesn’t take her long to get it down and then she settled in on her side, watching him. Her hand is petting him, fingers strumming his outline. “You wouldn’t like me half as much if I were angelic.” she tells him. Her words pull a chuckle out of him. Confident and cocky, two things Bishop Coldiron has almost always been. The fact that Teagan liked that about him was only just a bonus, because he knew down to his bones he couldn't change. He would be who he was until the very day he died. “So what you're really saying darlin’, is you'll keep feeding me compliments until I'm ‘bout impossible to live right?” Said with a smirk and a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You want to try me, Moonshine? Aint no one loves you like I do. Big head and all.” she promised. Bishop laughed, “No, I know better than to challenge you.” This is punctuated with a knowing smirk. Fishing another roll out of the container, he took a bite while he pondered her statement. Would he like her if she was angelic? Bishop had a feeling Teagan was right. Angelic didn't last long in his world. He lived a life better suited to go hard and stubborn, to a woman with a bit of bite to her. “You're probably right, baby. I like you just the way you are, strong, with a bit of bite to you.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head, every last ounce of love he has for her dripping from his every word. “You think I look angelic?” she layed back on the heaps of pillows that were to be expected when a woman took up residence - now maybe permanently. And despite her ignoring the fact that her trailer was still smoldering, that all of her precious items had been blown to smithereens, at least it had been settled to whose place they would reside in. Argument ended. Decision made. “and you like when I bite?” she smiled at him and this time maybe deviously. Angelic as she might seem with her blond hair and rosy cheeks she’d always been more devil. Studying her for a long moment, an appraising look really, Bishop took a few moments before answering. “I think you look like a good many things, darling, and laying like that you do look downright angelic,” food is forgotten for a second while he leans over her, his hands on either side of her. “And damn right I like your bite, baby.” The space between them is ate up as he captures her mouth with his. The kiss is hard and deep and Bishop comes up breathing heavy when they finally part. “I'm real damn happy you were with me when those cats attacked,” he murmured, settling back into a sitting position. “Don't know if I could have survived losing you.” She touches her lips when the kiss is ended. She liked the way his whiskers feel, how her lips sometimes burn after they’ve been kissing for awhile from all the friction. Teagan likes how smooth and rough he is all at once. He loves his layers. She loves his life. She loves him. Of course she also wipes some remnant potato crumbs from her lips and rests a hand on his leg. “A good many things?” she teases him, and she moves for him like he’s prey. She slinks across him until he’s laying down and she’s looking down at him. Her palms press to his chest, her hands splayed across him feeling the faint beat of his heart under her touch. “Mhmm,” is Bishop’s only reply, obviously distracted by Teagan’s actions far more than her words. Maybe another day he would detail out everything he loved about her, but this morning all he wanted was the comfort that came with having her near him. She’s not ready to ask him how it is out there, what to expect. She just needs this right now. She needs it because they can’t be certain that the cats won’t return and if they do? Who knows where they’ll be. If they do come back and attack she hopes it’s now. She hopes she’s with him, touching him, kissing him, fucking him - whatever it is. When it comes down to her end she wants to be with him. It’s not nihilistic.It’s a practical thought to have when at war and that’s what they were - at war. The smile she’s wearing goes serious and she looks down at him, hair framing her face, fingers strumming his chest. “I can’t lose you. My heart can’t take that blow. It won’t. I need you Bishop Coldiron. I’d die of a broken heart.” this aint a threat. This is something she truly believes. It’s real. It’s the type of thought she doesn’t allow herself to have too often because she tears up, sometimes she’s sobbed quietly to sleep thinking about it. Right now her eyes are watering just imagining the grief. She wants to be hard but when it comes to Bishop she’s soft. He’s brought in this serious turn in their conversation, spurred on by the bone chilling thought that has plagued his mind since the moment they had come upon her smoldering trailer. What would he have done if she had been in there? Bishop was not now, or ever, prepared to face losing Teagan. “You ain't going to lose me,” he assured her, hands settling on her waist. “I'm right here, baby, I ain't ever leaving, not if I can help it.” Bishop could make that promise because it was true, he wouldn't ever voluntarily leave her. “It’s you and me, no matter what.” She’s still sitting on him, pinning him down to the mattress. The potato rolls are safe, the package of beef jerky still locked in its vacuum seal. Her hunger is forgotten. The carnage that has happened isn’t but it’s faded into the background. “I’m yours, through and through. I love you Bode, Bishop, Moonshine….” She loves Rodeo, she loves the crew, she loves the Dog Park but if it ever came down to it, Bishop’s number one, Bishop’s first in her heart. Hand come up from where they were resting in his chest and she strokes his face, framing it with fingers, looking at him, memorizing him, touching him. The way his eyebrows lay, the way some of the hair near his mouth is curlier than the rest of his beard. The way his scar has settled on his face like it’s meant to be there. The dream blue of his eyes. The straightness of his nose. Her fingers trace around all those parts of him. It was in moments like these that Bishop wondered why they had waited so long. Why they had so stubbornly refused to be together. The ripple effect had been minimal at best, the worst of the chatter coming from the bitches, who's opinions never accounted for much anyway. “Love you too, T,” Reaching one hand towards his own face, he catches hers and kisses the palm of it before lacing their fingers together. Parts of him still wondered if he was the marrying kind, or if eventually this would turn to dust and he'd be alone again. Bishop tried not to let those thoughts take hold, though. Instead he focused on the here and now. On Teagan perched on top of him and the solid and real hand he held in his own. “Are you heading out there?” There was no way to prepare her for the carnage that still remained, for the chaos still engulfing their home, but he was comforted by the knowledge that she was at least rested now. Instead of speaking she nods her head solemnly. She’s not looking forward to what awaits her. She knows it won’t be pretty but that’s why she has to go. Teagan has a patch, she’s a leader, an officer and she’s missed hours of helping at his urging. She’d much rather be twisted up with Bishop under the sheets but he’s tired and he needs his rest. So as much as she doesn’t want to get away and be apart from him she knows she has to get going. As a concession to her leaving she kisses him again - soft and warm and lingering. Then she’s moving away and down the weird set of stairs. She pulls on her disgusting jeans. No sense dirtying one of the only pairs she has left. She even switches out of his clean shirt for the one that’s in a grungy heap in the corner. Boots go on after. Then the cut. She’s about to call up to him before she goes but she can hear him snoring softly already. “I love you Bishop…”she says softly before going out. |