Re: Capital: Jamie & Seven - Saturday Morning
He was already reaching for the phone and cursing under his breath when Jamie rolled up against his back, even though the reminder was over almost as quickly as it had started and he mostly ended up fumbling his phone for a second and knocking it off the nightstand onto the carpet. Seven hadn’t noticed his resentful muttering about Tommy last night actually registering with the thing, and now he felt a cool spike of vexation as he imagined the man’s face if he somehow found out that he’d been inadvertently right, after all. This in contrast to the mug of warm breath against his skin and the unexpected sling of Jamie’s arm over top of him, groping at nothing, and he couldn’t help the soft huff of laughter that escaped him.
He gave the phone up as a loss, thankfully silent now where it lay half underneath the bed, and rolled onto his back. Gingerly, so as not to end up on top of Jamie, who was seemingly attempting to burrow deeper into the mattress while still barely threads apart from unconsciousness. Seven managed to rearrange himself so that his arm was threaded between Jamie’s neck and the mattress, instead of being crushed up against his side, and even found a few spare inches of his pillow left to claim. Looking up at the ceiling, he watched the receding shift of shadows as the light grew outside, and he wished for the ability to fall back asleep instantaneously that he had apparently lost sometime shortly after Sawyer was born.