[ Maybe when they've both been to sleep for eight hours, they can have a more in depth discussion. Severus has to write a report, anyway. But for now, bits and pieces are acceptable. He's starting to feel like he might pass out right at the table, which is odd. ]
Did you want more? [ Food. Speaking of chewing on things. Maybe. Severus has about demolished his; he nudges her foot slightly with his own. ]
[ She could probably eat more, but she's not going to. Not in the interest of keeping up some kind of appearance but because if she eats anymore she will probably be uncomfortably full later. Besides, if she stops herself now that means she can scavenge the leftovers later. ]
I'm good, I think. [ Her foot drops down, heavy, to the floor, as she pushes herself up into a standing position. This garners a long stretch, letting all her muscles pull and then relax, punctuated with a yawn that feels as if it might leave her jaw unhinged. She glances at the dishes and what's left to clean up and has never been so thankful for magic. ] And now... food coma.
[ First she will actually pick up some dishes, though. ]
[ Severus nods, and sets about putting leftovers in... the strange plastic containers the ship kitchens provide. (If anyone else raids these, he will end them.) Magic is skipped, because Severus has definitely gotten a fork stuck in a door in the past having done household spells without paying full attention. ]
Would you like me to walk you back anywhere? [ Her room, or wherever else she might stay with less dog hair. A tiny voice in the back of his head tells him to ask her to just stay with him, but it seems both too forward and sort of lame because it wouldn't be forward at all. ]
[ If only she had a Sharpie. Maybe she could go collect some of whatever had been left on their grave couches after the jump and write his name on all the containers. That would surely send a message, though she's not sure it would send the right one. Instead, Claire busies herself with lamenting over the fact that she is not going to see a table magically cleared, literally, and begins the process of loading the dishwasher, which, thankfully, won't take long.
At his question, Claire presses her mouth into a thin line until she is forced to soften it by saying - ]
Um. [ Some of the dishes clank together and slip to the side, and she has to bend momentarily to right them and slip them back into their proper slots. Straightening up, she smooths stray hair back from her forehead with a damp hand. ] Well I made sure the dogs were all settled before I came up. They're pretty worn out, actually - thanks for that, by the way - so I don't have to - I mean, I could, you know, stay up here. For a while. With you. If you wanted.
[ She's barely seen him in like eight days so she refuses to be embarrassed about going and taking a nap with him. ]
[ Pause. Huh. Severus steps closer and lifts his hands to take her face in his hands and kiss her, much softer than-- snogging in lifts, from earlier, before food comas. ]
You're death to second-guessing myself, [ is murmured. And as oddly as that's phrased, it's a positive thing. ]
[ Claire laughs into him, pressing her palms into either arm. Her hands come back dryer, and his sleeves damper, but she's grinning up at him. After a beat, it turns a little incredulous. ]
Yeah, you should really, really stop doing that. [ She stretches to kiss him again - short, chaste, stressing a point as much as declaring affection - then rocks her weight back onto her heels and nods over at the table. ] Help me get this pretty much cleaned up before I pass standing.
[ Everything is weird, but Claire is really great. Severus feels a little stupid, but that's just because he's himself. He smiles a bit and turns to finish cleaning up - quick work. When everything's tucked away he washes his hands and dries them; the kitchen is back to being unnervingly space-sterile, but the scent of their dinner at least is still lingering a tiny bit. Humanizing. ]
All right, I'm done with being conscious. [ He extends a hand to snag one of hers, angling to head down the hall to his quarters. ]
[ She stores the space Tupperware in the back of the fridge somewhere so that anyone who comes across it might be less likely to steal it before she can do that herself and kicks the dishwasher door shut with the heel of her foot and decides that's all a job very well done. Never having investigated the effects of not sleeping on her particular blood type, Claire has no interest in getting started anytime soon. ]
All part of my master plan. [ She says while walking alongside him down the hallway. This one is blissfully free of encroaching darkness or murals that reach out to her. No archways, either; at least, none of the same architecture that they encountered in the halls. ] While you're passed out, I'm just gonna come back down here and steal the rest of that stew.
[ Oh, look, a door. Behind that door is a bed she plans on faceplanting on just as soon as she can get her shoes off. ]
As long as it's you doing the stealing. [ Door: open. Tidy as usual, or maybe even moreso; he hasn't exactly been spending his nights here. There's no lingering cigarette smell and the cup he uses as an ashtray is gone, left in the room he was using as a monitoring hq.
He pokes the temperature control to make it slightly cooler - habit - and starts pulling off his boots. ]
[ Claire sits down almost immediately, toeing out of her shoes as she perches at the edge of his bunk. The overall feeling of being totally worn out and worn down means that reservation or the idea of overstepping any boundaries is shoved down somewhere below the floor. She is pretty sure she is going to be eating that pillow in about five minutes whether he has anything to say or not. Not that he will, though. Claire knows better. ]
I'd fight tooth and nail. [ A yawn, another jaw-cracker. ] Or something.
[ She doesn't bother at all with pretense and curls up like a cat underneath the top blanket. There is a sheet trapped between her and the mattress that she, disgruntled, has to yank out from underneath herself. ]
[ Severus stifles a yawn in response to hers, and sits down on the bed while he unbuttons his shirt-- which has an undershirt under it (of course), but buttons suck to sleep squished against. He chucks it over his chair and has to stand back up when she starts struggling with the bedsheet, laughing softly for a moment. ]
I think you won. [ Tiny warrior vs blanket. Severus tugs them back again so he can join her, too tired to make a big deal out of cramped quarters. He settles on his side and curls an arm around her. ]
[ Claire doesn't take her pullover off, even though the zipper might get snagged on something, though there's a good chance that once she falls asleep, she won't actually move at all due to being completely exhausted. It isn't in the interest of propriety but because he keeps the room cooler than she's used to, and she has no interest in waking up because it's cold. She does fish her comm unit out of her pocket so she can swipe the screen and set an alarm for a few hours. The dogs should be fine until then, but she doesn't want to leave them when she's been gone so long already, even if they were entertained by everyone else while she was away.
Tiny warrior being the victor, she rolls onto her side to face him. Her eyes catch the stark white of the bandage before he lies down, but she lets him get settled, and herself in turn, before mentioning anything about it. She doesn't feel awkward, whether by force or just... she can be comfortable around him without trying too hard. But the potential is there. Claire doesn't entertain it and presses her nose into his shirt while burrowing in. ]
Did you hurt yourself? [ The bandage, which she's seen before but has never inquired. Her voice is tired and her eyes are already closed. It's a half-formed question, no adherence to time lines, an observation. ]
[ It's a little bit stupid that he keeps the Mark covered all the time - everyone who might know what it is already knows it's there, and no one else would understand it. But Severus doesn't want to deal with making up a story or, Merlin forbid, explaining it. Looking at it himself isn't too much of an issue - it's not like he wears an extra bandage under his long sleeves at home - but it just feels so private. ]
Not really. It's a long story. [ He doesn't want to lie to Claire about it. She already knows what he's done. Right now, though, he's too tired to get it out with any semblance of order, and thinks talking about it might become very uncomfortable very quickly. ]
[ Weighted down the way that she is, one foot already sucked into some quasi-conscious state, it's easy to just write it off for now. Not easy enough that she will forget asking about it later, but enough that she can't find it within herself to care at the moment. A long story is too long of a story right now, and as it's not exactly a pressing injury or anecdote, Claire feels like she can let it slide in favor of just sliding into unconsciousness.
Her eyes are closed before she gives them permission, though she lingers in that strange twilight between awake and asleep even while trying to tip herself over into the latter. ]
Okaygoodbye. [ Is a phrase that magically becomes one word as she spills in the right direction, unsure of how long it's been since she said anything else in the first place and unable to care as she finally just passes the hell out. ]
[ Okaygoodbye works pretty well. Severus remains awake for only a short while, spacily wondering how the hell he got to this point. Experimentally he imagines Lily being here, red hair beneath his hand instead of blonde, but the thought is too painful and unnerving, confused and intense feelings still existing in a wound too raw.
He focuses on the reality. He's never fantasized about this and it's better. He actually believes it.
Severus doesn't quite manage eight hours - probably not even seven - because his internal clock won't let him, but he doesn't get up. The slight chill in the room is counteracted by double the body heat in his small quarters, wrapped up in blankets. He stays where he is for an unknown amount of time, not really dozing, but not fidgeting for alertness either. Experiencing reality with a quiet mind; if he thinks too hard about it, he'll surely overwhelm himself. ]
[ The moment that she's out, she's out. For stretches of time, it's a restful sleep, deep and untroubled, utterly blank and devoid of anything that isn't the black backs of her eyelids. Or maybe that is a dream, a reflection of the last eight days spent in darkness with only the bobbing guide of three flashlight beams to cut through it all.
When she does wake up, briefly, Claire doesn't stop to consider the possibility. Her alarm goes off after three hours, and she hovers in between awake and asleep long enough to send a message to whoever it is keeping an eye on the dogs in comms, asking them to please keep them a little while longer, she's so tired, drop them off back at the room and please feed them, etc. She doesn't drift off completely again until the unit chirps in affirmation, and then it's back under, submerged once again.
Waking up for good is a slow process, and she hasn't moved very much in almost eight hours so while her bones don't ache, everything weirdly still feels stiff. For a while, she fights with this new conscious state, rejecting it in favor of the alternative. Eventually she extracts a hand from where it's been curled into a ball between them and scrubs at her face, pushing a substantially larger amount of hair back from her eyes and nose than was there when she laid down to begin with. ]
Good morning. [ Bleary. Eyes closed. She hopes her breath doesn't stink and she just manages to avoid a typical morning stretch while still in such close proximity. ] How long was I asleep?
Morning. [ Quietly murmured. Severus is fully awake by now, but in no hurry to get up and get going. He strokes her hair back from her forehead a little, but is cognizant to not poke around at her face more than that while she's still waking up. ] I'm not sure. Did I dream beeping?
[ Maybe Severus had half-opened his eyes during the alarm interruption, but sensing no need to panic, instantly dropped back off. Otherwise he was useless, unconscious weight. ]
[ Claire has to think about that for a moment. Ultimately she decides that it sounds too familiar to have been a dream and, stretching her toes, retrieves her comm unit from the comforter. ]
Alarm went off. I didn't feel like getting up. [ She yawns, still only approaching the idea of being wholly awake. ] Had to make sure the dogs were okay.
[ The blankets are too warm for her to jeopardize letting any of the cold air in from outside, so Claire gets one of her arms under his and draws her knees up almost to her chest, pressing up against him and not bothering to be hesitant about it. Conversation comes to her in snipped fragments from the hours prior to falling asleep. She hasn't forgotten about the bandage even without having to look at it. ]
[ He exhales a laugh through his nose when she wiggles closer and adjusts as to not get kneed anywhere squishy. He knows it's a conscious effort on both their parts not to become awkward or anxious about this, and he appreciates it - is glad for it in a small, unusual way he's not able to properly put his finger on. ]
Mmhm. [ Settled with his arms around her again, since neither are going anywhere, apparently. ] I haven't been awake for too long.
[ She makes a noise of vague acknowledgment, wondering if she's still half-asleep and nothing else. Her eyes flutter closed again, just briefly, and then she takes a deep breath in and following it back out, waking up the last little bit of the way. Even if she wanted to go back to sleep, there would be no getting back to that level of nothingness now. ]
I'm awake. [ In case anyone other than her needed clarification. ] Not that I'm complaining right now, but did you know that your room is really cold?
I think I'm too adapted to dungeon temperatures. [ Northern Scotland in winter, three floors deep at best. His classroom and laboratory could become warm and humid from the work in them, but his personal quarters always were always cold. ] When you build underground, it always stays low. The heat just never creeps in from outside.
[ Although she isn't sure why anyone would choose a dungeon to keep their quarters and house in, at the moment she really isn't complaining about the temperature. It means that she has an excuse to stay where she is without having to consider the ramifications or implications surrounding it. Her mind has been a constant tangle about this for months; for once it's nice to have some clarity, even if it's based on a flimsy excuse. ]
Maybe later. [ At the moment the only part of her that's actually cold at all is her nose. The cocoon they have managed to somehow carve out does okay in keeping everything else warm, and in the interest of making sure that he doesn't get up to fix it, Claire gathers up some of his shirt in the curl of her fingers. ] Who put a dorm in a dungeon anyway?
The school is a castle. It's bigger inside than outside. [ Severus hasn't felt homesick yet, not really; he felt a kind of exhausted despair being haunted by dreams of Albus, before going into the hallways and seeing those constructs of home. But it's not the same. His voice is muted, almost nostalgic. ] Two houses have dormitories in towers, two are underground. The Slytherin common room backs up underneath the Black Lake, and we have glass windows against the water on one side. The older girls' rooms have windows that can see the grounds, but they're pointed up, so they can see the stars at night and the edge of the forest.
[ The way that he describes it, as limited and without adjectives as it is, still makes it sound kind of awesome. But still. Cold and damp. Claire supposes that's where magic comes in handy. ]
My view at Arlington was of a tree and a bunch of other dormitories. Water on one side and stars on the other sounds way better, even if it was cold and damp. [ She furrows her brow, giving the illusion of thinking hard. ] And green. For some reason I imagine everything being vaguely green.
It's not damp. [ Ew, Claire, then it'd mold. ] It's a very well up castle. [ And like. The only place he's ever been able to call home, even considering how resentful he is of the damn place most of the time. ] It is a bit green in decor, though, yes.
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Did you want more? [ Food. Speaking of chewing on things. Maybe. Severus has about demolished his; he nudges her foot slightly with his own. ]
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I'm good, I think. [ Her foot drops down, heavy, to the floor, as she pushes herself up into a standing position. This garners a long stretch, letting all her muscles pull and then relax, punctuated with a yawn that feels as if it might leave her jaw unhinged. She glances at the dishes and what's left to clean up and has never been so thankful for magic. ] And now... food coma.
[ First she will actually pick up some dishes, though. ]
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Would you like me to walk you back anywhere? [ Her room, or wherever else she might stay with less dog hair. A tiny voice in the back of his head tells him to ask her to just stay with him, but it seems both too forward and sort of lame because it wouldn't be forward at all. ]
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At his question, Claire presses her mouth into a thin line until she is forced to soften it by saying - ]
Um. [ Some of the dishes clank together and slip to the side, and she has to bend momentarily to right them and slip them back into their proper slots. Straightening up, she smooths stray hair back from her forehead with a damp hand. ] Well I made sure the dogs were all settled before I came up. They're pretty worn out, actually - thanks for that, by the way - so I don't have to - I mean, I could, you know, stay up here. For a while. With you. If you wanted.
[ She's barely seen him in like eight days so she refuses to be embarrassed about going and taking a nap with him. ]
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You're death to second-guessing myself, [ is murmured. And as oddly as that's phrased, it's a positive thing. ]
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Yeah, you should really, really stop doing that. [ She stretches to kiss him again - short, chaste, stressing a point as much as declaring affection - then rocks her weight back onto her heels and nods over at the table. ] Help me get this pretty much cleaned up before I pass standing.
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All right, I'm done with being conscious. [ He extends a hand to snag one of hers, angling to head down the hall to his quarters. ]
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All part of my master plan. [ She says while walking alongside him down the hallway. This one is blissfully free of encroaching darkness or murals that reach out to her. No archways, either; at least, none of the same architecture that they encountered in the halls. ] While you're passed out, I'm just gonna come back down here and steal the rest of that stew.
[ Oh, look, a door. Behind that door is a bed she plans on faceplanting on just as soon as she can get her shoes off. ]
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He pokes the temperature control to make it slightly cooler - habit - and starts pulling off his boots. ]
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I'd fight tooth and nail. [ A yawn, another jaw-cracker. ] Or something.
[ She doesn't bother at all with pretense and curls up like a cat underneath the top blanket. There is a sheet trapped between her and the mattress that she, disgruntled, has to yank out from underneath herself. ]
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I think you won. [ Tiny warrior vs blanket. Severus tugs them back again so he can join her, too tired to make a big deal out of cramped quarters. He settles on his side and curls an arm around her. ]
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Tiny warrior being the victor, she rolls onto her side to face him. Her eyes catch the stark white of the bandage before he lies down, but she lets him get settled, and herself in turn, before mentioning anything about it. She doesn't feel awkward, whether by force or just... she can be comfortable around him without trying too hard. But the potential is there. Claire doesn't entertain it and presses her nose into his shirt while burrowing in. ]
Did you hurt yourself? [ The bandage, which she's seen before but has never inquired. Her voice is tired and her eyes are already closed. It's a half-formed question, no adherence to time lines, an observation. ]
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Not really. It's a long story. [ He doesn't want to lie to Claire about it. She already knows what he's done. Right now, though, he's too tired to get it out with any semblance of order, and thinks talking about it might become very uncomfortable very quickly. ]
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[ Weighted down the way that she is, one foot already sucked into some quasi-conscious state, it's easy to just write it off for now. Not easy enough that she will forget asking about it later, but enough that she can't find it within herself to care at the moment. A long story is too long of a story right now, and as it's not exactly a pressing injury or anecdote, Claire feels like she can let it slide in favor of just sliding into unconsciousness.
Her eyes are closed before she gives them permission, though she lingers in that strange twilight between awake and asleep even while trying to tip herself over into the latter. ]
Okaygoodbye. [ Is a phrase that magically becomes one word as she spills in the right direction, unsure of how long it's been since she said anything else in the first place and unable to care as she finally just passes the hell out. ]
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He focuses on the reality. He's never fantasized about this and it's better. He actually believes it.
Severus doesn't quite manage eight hours - probably not even seven - because his internal clock won't let him, but he doesn't get up. The slight chill in the room is counteracted by double the body heat in his small quarters, wrapped up in blankets. He stays where he is for an unknown amount of time, not really dozing, but not fidgeting for alertness either. Experiencing reality with a quiet mind; if he thinks too hard about it, he'll surely overwhelm himself. ]
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When she does wake up, briefly, Claire doesn't stop to consider the possibility. Her alarm goes off after three hours, and she hovers in between awake and asleep long enough to send a message to whoever it is keeping an eye on the dogs in comms, asking them to please keep them a little while longer, she's so tired, drop them off back at the room and please feed them, etc. She doesn't drift off completely again until the unit chirps in affirmation, and then it's back under, submerged once again.
Waking up for good is a slow process, and she hasn't moved very much in almost eight hours so while her bones don't ache, everything weirdly still feels stiff. For a while, she fights with this new conscious state, rejecting it in favor of the alternative. Eventually she extracts a hand from where it's been curled into a ball between them and scrubs at her face, pushing a substantially larger amount of hair back from her eyes and nose than was there when she laid down to begin with. ]
Good morning. [ Bleary. Eyes closed. She hopes her breath doesn't stink and she just manages to avoid a typical morning stretch while still in such close proximity. ] How long was I asleep?
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[ Maybe Severus had half-opened his eyes during the alarm interruption, but sensing no need to panic, instantly dropped back off. Otherwise he was useless, unconscious weight. ]
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Alarm went off. I didn't feel like getting up. [ She yawns, still only approaching the idea of being wholly awake. ] Had to make sure the dogs were okay.
[ The blankets are too warm for her to jeopardize letting any of the cold air in from outside, so Claire gets one of her arms under his and draws her knees up almost to her chest, pressing up against him and not bothering to be hesitant about it. Conversation comes to her in snipped fragments from the hours prior to falling asleep. She hasn't forgotten about the bandage even without having to look at it. ]
You sleep okay?
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Mmhm. [ Settled with his arms around her again, since neither are going anywhere, apparently. ] I haven't been awake for too long.
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I'm awake. [ In case anyone other than her needed clarification. ] Not that I'm complaining right now, but did you know that your room is really cold?
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I can fix it if you like.
[ Next time? ]
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Maybe later. [ At the moment the only part of her that's actually cold at all is her nose. The cocoon they have managed to somehow carve out does okay in keeping everything else warm, and in the interest of making sure that he doesn't get up to fix it, Claire gathers up some of his shirt in the curl of her fingers. ] Who put a dorm in a dungeon anyway?
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My view at Arlington was of a tree and a bunch of other dormitories. Water on one side and stars on the other sounds way better, even if it was cold and damp. [ She furrows her brow, giving the illusion of thinking hard. ] And green. For some reason I imagine everything being vaguely green.
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i'm sorry these are all so short i feel like a tool
damn it claire you're a terrible person
noooooooooooooo
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