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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 15, 2011 12:56:57 GMT -8
Henning didn't notice Charlotte moving around him to remove the books, or her invitation to sleep... He was so close to the periphery already... Her kiss seemed to him like the slow trailing of a gull's white wing upon the dark waters into which he was sinking. The feathers brushed his hair, then his cheek, and then tickled his ear... He resurfaced for a moment, just long enough to respond without knowing quite what had been said to him. Knowing the answer would come back in the morning.
"Yeah... I will. Always..."
Then he let go and drifting down into darkness, the white bird shimmering high above him, wings folded as if waiting for his return.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 15, 2011 15:13:11 GMT -8
Charlotte grinned at David’s sleepy response. He has no idea what it is I said. She brushed her fingertips lightly across his cheek before setting about easing his sleeping body further up on the bed, so his legs were no longer hanging off the edge. It... was kind of awkward going, but she did manage to get him situated more comfortably on the bed.
With that done, it was time for tea. So she headed over to the electric tea pot and got the water on. Rummaging through her collection of teas until she found her orange pekoe, she grabbed her favourite tea cup and started filling the tea infuser. Breathing deeply she sighed. I love the smell of tea.
Water boiling, she poured it over the infuser and let it steep while she went to her little fridge to get the milk. Well crap. She was going to have to go grocery shopping. Of course, she had been intending to head to the Milk Barn the day she’d re-encountered David. She’d... gotten a little distracted, and never made it there. She shrugged, returning the carton back to the fridge. Looks like she knew what she was going to do tomorrow. Goody...
Removing the infuser Charlotte stirred in a generous dollop of honey to her tea, and wrapped her hands around the cup. Humming quietly, she made her way over to the window, opening the curtains and gazing outside into the darkness. She really should sleep; the exhaustion she’d been pretending she wasn’t feeling was beginning to insist on making itself known.
So she took her tea over to the bed, setting it down on the nightstand (it could keep the scrapbook and notepad company) and slid into bed next to the slumbering David.
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