[ furina mumbles something about promising to keep his secret as they reach the door of the apartment, already half asleep as he fumbles with the keys to get them both inside. she does not notice as they enter, nor does she really notice as they pass neuvillette asleep on the couch making only soft noise in agreement.
it's really only when he shuffles into her room that she comes back to herself, eyes fluttering open as he deposits her down onto her bed with a noticeable lack of grace.
maybe it is the alcohol still coursing through her system, or the sudden lack of warmth now that she isn't being carried on his back, but furina reaches out grab his hand before he moves away. holding him in place. ]
Thank you...
[ she tugs at his hand though there is no strength to it, her grip faltering as she struggles to remain awake. ]
[ he has a path in his mind. Furina's in bed, and safe--now he just has to make it to his room and fall asleep in any position than on his back.
He makes it about 1.2 inches before he realises he's being held onto. Turning his head and looking down at Furina--and that hand that's gripped in his own. There's a flutter of something in his chest. Noone's. Ever...
The feeling of her fingers on his own feels .... strange. Her hands are so much smaller. Long, delicate fingers that feel so soft and brittle in his own rough, calloused ones. Huge hands that were more accustomed to becoming fists than they were anything else, and here they are, being gently held by a hand that's so much weaker--and yet, the grip roots him in place. ]
...Furina?
[ he speaks her name, questioning. His head tilting to the side, trying to ... figure out what it is what she wanted.
...The look in her eyes. Ah.
He understands. He lets out a quiet, long sigh... ]
[ and he moves to sit on the floor. He's tall enough that he can rest his arms along the top of the bed, moving her hand up to the soft covers, but not trying to force him to let go.
He'll lean against the bed, and rest his head between his own arms. ]
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it's really only when he shuffles into her room that she comes back to herself, eyes fluttering open as he deposits her down onto her bed with a noticeable lack of grace.
maybe it is the alcohol still coursing through her system, or the sudden lack of warmth now that she isn't being carried on his back, but furina reaches out grab his hand before he moves away. holding him in place. ]
Thank you...
[ she tugs at his hand though there is no strength to it, her grip faltering as she struggles to remain awake. ]
1/2
He makes it about 1.2 inches before he realises he's being held onto. Turning his head and looking down at Furina--and that hand that's gripped in his own.
There's a flutter of something in his chest. Noone's. Ever...
The feeling of her fingers on his own feels .... strange. Her hands are so much smaller. Long, delicate fingers that feel so soft and brittle in his own rough, calloused ones. Huge hands that were more accustomed to becoming fists than they were anything else, and here they are, being gently held by a hand that's so much weaker--and yet, the grip roots him in place. ]
...Furina?
[ he speaks her name, questioning. His head tilting to the side, trying to ... figure out what it is what she wanted.
...The look in her eyes.
Ah.
He understands. He lets out a quiet, long sigh... ]
2/2
He'll lean against the bed, and rest his head between his own arms. ]
Get some sleep. You need it.
I won't go anywhere.