MAYBE SHE SHOULD JUST go to bed. Catch up on some much needed rest. She hates to admit it but she had slept better knowing he was close, even if he was a floor down. She’d forgotten how exhausting being alone was.
She decided that was probably her best option right now: maybe in the morning it’d be a bit easier to deal with… THIS. Whitney finished off what was left of her wine before placing the glass in the sink, just staring at nothing to avoid looking at him.
His voice pulled her attention; turned her head to the side toward him before she straightened up, rolled her eyes, & headed toward him.
❝ It’s where it normally is. I’m going to bed. ❞
She bypassed him straight to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her but not all the way. She kept her stash under her bathroom sink, so he’d need to come in. At least she could pretend she was sleeping – she knows he wouldn’t bother her ( wouldn’t dare ) while she’s sleeping. She gets so little of it.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Whitney kicks off her shoes, rubbing at her feet a little before slipping into bed. Her body feels heavy, she notices then: like she’s been awake for far too long & now that she’s finally resting, she can feel every ache & burning of her muscles. She shuts her eyes, takes in a deep breath & then lets it out.
She can sleep soundly now.
HE HAD HOPED THAT she would consider joining him for a late night smoke, but then she faced him as she made her way towards him, and he saw the exhaustion, barely hidden behind her grace, that must have drove her forward, past him. He turned his head slightly as she got closer, facing her a bit more.
“ Goodnight... Thanks. ”
What he’s thanking her for, he’s not entirely sure. He always had reasons to thank her, but that evening, she had not only let him up in the first place, but she hadn’t killed him on sight. She spoken to him on the patio, and let him in again, even if it was only for a moment. There’s still a dull ache in his chest as she passes him, but even then, he doesn’t say anything else. He can tell she’s had enough of his... Stubbornness.
It took him about fifteen minutes after she entered her room for him to follow after her, this time with damp hair and no out-of-sorts suit. No, now he wore his typical sleeping outfit, which usually consisted of boxers and a t-shirt. Quietly, walking through her room, he lets himself into her bathroom before setting up her kit at her sink. Within another ten minutes, Tadd’s putting away her case and what’s left of her stash before he turns the light of her bathroom off and steps back into the dark of her room. He pauses there for a moment, looking at her through the light of her bedroom’s open doorway, and he can’t help but smile and hope she’s at peace. Leaning over, he drops an already rolled joint on her bedside table, hoping she’ll treat herself in the morning.
“ Sleep well, Whitney. ”
It’s less than a whisper, but he likes saying her name.
Taking two for himself, he makes his way back to her patio. He didn’t want to go back down to his apartment, at some point he had decided that. All that was left to do now was smoke and find where he was sleeping in her place for the night. Even a floor was too much distance right then. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being completely alone for the night.
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