Good. Good, I want you to-- to know. Even if you don't always want you to know. [Funny how drunkenness gets you closer to the truth and farther from coherency every second.
But what's not funny, just consoling, is the feeling of his chest moving above her head. His breathing lulling her closer to sleep and his hand on her hair soothing her eyes shut despite her apparent want to keep talking.
She hums and nuzzles against his leg, stretching before she goes limp.]
[She hears that start of a story. She thinks she senses a rare honesty and, alcohol dulling the usually razor-sharp instinct to claw into nearby honesty - especially in those least likely to show it - she just shuffles up a bit closer.
She's here, Cynric. For whatever level of truth or lie this fairy tale ends up being.] Yer not alone either. [Is her small, intoxicated mumble against his outer thigh. She scrabbles loosely for a hand, hopes she finds one to cuddle close to her chest and draw against slack but dry lips.
She may regret not remembering more, asking for more, later - but for now she's learned her lessons of pressuring. He'll share what he wants to when he wants, and if he prefers while she's drunk and will recall only vague ideas and sensations-- Well. Surely they have years to go yet in their friendship.
She's here for now and for later. Forever as far as forever can take her, she hopes. It's the thought she snuggles in on as she edges closer to sleep.]
[That's fine, really. The start of the story is lovely, after all. It's about a man who loved a woman desperately, and saved her from a life she didn't want for a life of freedom. The start of the story is about the two little boys they had and loved very much.
It's the middle that gets confusing. It's not nice, telling stories about people drifting apart--or about people fighting. It's not a pleasant sort of thing for bedtime.
So maybe the truth of the middle will get whipped through, to get to the end. To the part where at least one of the boys gets back on his feet. Finds people who make him feel safe and loved again.
Meets the most ridiculously easily drunk monk in the universe, and is glad he's not alone.
[It is a nice story. It has a nice beginning and a slightly hole-filled darker middle and then the light comes out again for the sweeping end.
The best part, Lee thinks - or would if she were more conscious - is the fact that this story hasn't actually ended yet. That the little boy - now a not-so-little man - has found a place to be safe and loved and that that won't stop for the foreseeable future. That maybe there'll be growing pains still with his new friends but all in all he probably picked better candidates for himself than the hand he was dealt at birth.
It's a story with a happy ending, and no real ending at all yet - and possibilities are some of the best endings. The very best.
So the little not-sister in his lap will shift and hum and make herself only quietly known all night as he talks himself out. She'll cling sleepily to his hand and mumble occasional nonsense and hopefully he stays put through the most of it.
Because come morning, she's going to be far less content and far more volatile regarding stomach contents and light levels and sounds and it'd be a pity for such a happy ending not to gather the scrapes of real friendship. Hopefully he'll hold her hair back. Hopefully she'll aim far, far from his lap or arms or feet.
Hopefully, mostly, things settle right back to normal.]
{ooc; that last tag was so sweet I just need you to know :3c I think our hooligans earned this happy ending y/y}
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-02-09 04:52 am (UTC)But what's not funny, just consoling, is the feeling of his chest moving above her head. His breathing lulling her closer to sleep and his hand on her hair soothing her eyes shut despite her apparent want to keep talking.
She hums and nuzzles against his leg, stretching before she goes limp.]
no subject
Date: 2014-02-09 04:56 am (UTC)Not so stupid Lee falling asleep on his lap, though. Sort of lovely Lee being curled up here safe and warm and such.]
...once upon a time.
[She'll be passed out before he gets to anything incriminating. But... that's fine.
It'll be nice to talk to her, quiet and honest, while she sleeps.]
Wow okay so just stab me in tHE HEART
Date: 2014-02-09 06:03 am (UTC)She's here, Cynric. For whatever level of truth or lie this fairy tale ends up being.] Yer not alone either. [Is her small, intoxicated mumble against his outer thigh. She scrabbles loosely for a hand, hopes she finds one to cuddle close to her chest and draw against slack but dry lips.
She may regret not remembering more, asking for more, later - but for now she's learned her lessons of pressuring. He'll share what he wants to when he wants, and if he prefers while she's drunk and will recall only vague ideas and sensations-- Well. Surely they have years to go yet in their friendship.
She's here for now and for later. Forever as far as forever can take her, she hopes. It's the thought she snuggles in on as she edges closer to sleep.]
I do enjoy it. :3 ...I mean um. \o/?
Date: 2014-02-09 07:26 am (UTC)It's the middle that gets confusing. It's not nice, telling stories about people drifting apart--or about people fighting. It's not a pleasant sort of thing for bedtime.
So maybe the truth of the middle will get whipped through, to get to the end. To the part where at least one of the boys gets back on his feet. Finds people who make him feel safe and loved again.
Meets the most ridiculously easily drunk monk in the universe, and is glad he's not alone.
It's a nice story, at the end of things.]
He's so. Goddamn cute sometimes. >:'[
Date: 2014-02-09 12:02 pm (UTC)The best part, Lee thinks - or would if she were more conscious - is the fact that this story hasn't actually ended yet. That the little boy - now a not-so-little man - has found a place to be safe and loved and that that won't stop for the foreseeable future. That maybe there'll be growing pains still with his new friends but all in all he probably picked better candidates for himself than the hand he was dealt at birth.
It's a story with a happy ending, and no real ending at all yet - and possibilities are some of the best endings. The very best.
So the little not-sister in his lap will shift and hum and make herself only quietly known all night as he talks himself out. She'll cling sleepily to his hand and mumble occasional nonsense and hopefully he stays put through the most of it.
Because come morning, she's going to be far less content and far more volatile regarding stomach contents and light levels and sounds and it'd be a pity for such a happy ending not to gather the scrapes of real friendship. Hopefully he'll hold her hair back. Hopefully she'll aim far, far from his lap or arms or feet.
Hopefully, mostly, things settle right back to normal.]
{ooc; that last tag was so sweet I just need you to know :3c I think our hooligans earned this happy ending y/y}