[fic] Untitled waffy Jinana/Argilla thing
Right. I was up even earlier than usual due to stomachache and bleh, so. You get drabble. RETARDED JINANA/ARGILLA WAFFY FIC based entirely on CFUD threads like this. Entirely retarded and waffy, o/
When she wakes, the first thing on her mind isn't where she is or who she's with or how she's alive: it's hunger, churning through her gut, making her mouth taste sour, leaving her nauseated with the intensity of her need. She keeps her eyes closed and trembles through it, fights until her thoughts begin to come clearly again and the hunger reverts to that low background pain she is accustomed to.
At that point, she relaxes and realizes she is warm; it is warm in these blankets, comfortable and quiet. She opens her eyes.
Argilla is asleep, stripped down to her underclothes, her hair down and tangled on the pillow. Her sleeping face is relaxed, calm, her mouth a little open. She is curled close, both hands by her chin. Some tendrils of hair have fallen across her face, a few sticking to the corners of her lips.
Jinana reaches out, and lightly, carefully, pushes those tendrils back. Argilla's cheek is soft; her lips curve slightly into a smile at the touch, though she does not wake. Careful not to disturb her, Jinana pushes herself up to an elbow and slowly strokes Argilla's hair. She thinks she could, perhaps, sleep again, but does not want to.
When she wakes, the first thing on her mind isn't where she is or who she's with or how she's alive: it's hunger, churning through her gut, making her mouth taste sour, leaving her nauseated with the intensity of her need. She keeps her eyes closed and trembles through it, fights until her thoughts begin to come clearly again and the hunger reverts to that low background pain she is accustomed to.
At that point, she relaxes and realizes she is warm; it is warm in these blankets, comfortable and quiet. She opens her eyes.
Argilla is asleep, stripped down to her underclothes, her hair down and tangled on the pillow. Her sleeping face is relaxed, calm, her mouth a little open. She is curled close, both hands by her chin. Some tendrils of hair have fallen across her face, a few sticking to the corners of her lips.
Jinana reaches out, and lightly, carefully, pushes those tendrils back. Argilla's cheek is soft; her lips curve slightly into a smile at the touch, though she does not wake. Careful not to disturb her, Jinana pushes herself up to an elbow and slowly strokes Argilla's hair. She thinks she could, perhaps, sleep again, but does not want to.