Mar 20, 2007 01:29
Daniel does not sleep like the dead. Considering the environment the people of Chicago live in, this is comforting. Usually he is a light sleeper, a long ingrained habit.
But after a long and rather stressful day, he'll sleep for a while, if he isn't interrupted.
The fire is built up, and Crabapple is settled down for the night.
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Comments 29
She leaves her shotgun back in 'her' room, then slips quietly into Daniel's.
There are . . . . things she needs to talk to him about.
If she can.
But--he's sleeping.
Shit.
She hesitates, torn between waking him up and running again.
She's good at running. It's easy. This--
Talking is hard.
Shit.
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No visible bite marks, anyway. And the fire casts enough shadows to hide any dark circles under his eyes.
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Okay, this is ridiculous.
She's a grown woman and he's just Daniel.
She's still not moving.
Maybe--maybe if she just talks?
"Daniel!"
Or hisses, that's probably okay too, right?
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For this, he'll sit up all the way. "Anna." There's definitely relief, there.
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