if_at_first | he's such a prude though

he's such a prude though

Sylvi settles in very thoroughly. She makes a point of going out on her wooden horse and wandering the city every day or two, even if she has no specific errand to run (although she does also place orders for lenses and very fine-tipped pens and new notebooks). She hugs Avedan when he has bad dreams and he hugs her when she does, if they successfully wake one another despite the long pillow between them on the bed. And she plows through piles and piles of old notes, and condenses her childhood for inclusion in the same library for future 'bels.

As of this moment she is up to her specialization in shines. Write write write.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Snuggle. Sylvi knows better than to expect overwhelming coherence from him in the middle of the night.

That's a safe bet. But even without being completely coherent, he's perfectly capable of snuggles. Behold, how he can snuggle.

(Snuggle, snuggle.)

Snuggles are a vitally important function.

"Sorry for waking you."

"S'fine, you needed me," he mumbles, nuzzling a little.

Nuzzle.

"...Sorry I died. When you didn't know it was even possible I'd come back."

"S'fine," he repeats. Pause. "... The death wasn' - the - you came back. Eventually."

"Not without leaving you grieving for eighteen years."

"You came back," he repeats. "'nd I made the pox go 'way. Sucked, but - s'not your fault."

"I haven't dreamed her dying yet but - I decided to start breathing again when you asked me - and I still don't know if I decided not to, the last time."