Don't worry, I haven't forgotten how you said you didn't need shelves.
[ He says in amusement, unlatching the holster he had on over his shirt. Setting that aside for now, he tugs his shirt over his head by the collar, unworried about leaving it a rumple on top of his jacket. Left in a plain tee and the dark joggers he'd hastily pulled on, he slips the handgun out of its holster and goes to set it on the nearby nightstand.
Apparently nearby the knife she's got tucked away. And if both of those fail, for some unlucky reason, there's a crowbar by the door. She's prepared. Something like gratefulness and relief settles in him as he watches her get comfortable, blankets rustling with the motions. His eyebrows go up in a small startle when she holds her arms out in a clear invitation, the gesture somehow so whimsical he can't help but huff a laugh.
Well, and crawl into the bed to accept it, sinking down into her embrace. Keeping his full weight off of her, he's tilted just to the side, head pillowed on her chest and a bony shin thrown over hers. One hand skims along her upper arm, palm cupped around her shoulder, thumb idly sweeping along the curve of it. If he were anyone else, this would be weird—it wasn't like most made a habit of cuddling with people they considered friends. But, even though he's keenly aware and protective of personal space—his and others—this kind of easy comfort is something he's used to. He'd grown up with it; he's not afraid to hug his sister. And the amount of times they'd fallen asleep on his bunk or the couch, tucked up close, was nearly uncountable at this point.
So, he relaxes into Kalmiya's hold, radiating a quiet contentment. ]
no subject
[ He says in amusement, unlatching the holster he had on over his shirt. Setting that aside for now, he tugs his shirt over his head by the collar, unworried about leaving it a rumple on top of his jacket. Left in a plain tee and the dark joggers he'd hastily pulled on, he slips the handgun out of its holster and goes to set it on the nearby nightstand.
Apparently nearby the knife she's got tucked away. And if both of those fail, for some unlucky reason, there's a crowbar by the door. She's prepared. Something like gratefulness and relief settles in him as he watches her get comfortable, blankets rustling with the motions. His eyebrows go up in a small startle when she holds her arms out in a clear invitation, the gesture somehow so whimsical he can't help but huff a laugh.
Well, and crawl into the bed to accept it, sinking down into her embrace. Keeping his full weight off of her, he's tilted just to the side, head pillowed on her chest and a bony shin thrown over hers. One hand skims along her upper arm, palm cupped around her shoulder, thumb idly sweeping along the curve of it. If he were anyone else, this would be weird—it wasn't like most made a habit of cuddling with people they considered friends. But, even though he's keenly aware and protective of personal space—his and others—this kind of easy comfort is something he's used to. He'd grown up with it; he's not afraid to hug his sister. And the amount of times they'd fallen asleep on his bunk or the couch, tucked up close, was nearly uncountable at this point.
So, he relaxes into Kalmiya's hold, radiating a quiet contentment. ]