32 frm amelie !
fifty reasons to touch someone.
Shit, what time was it? How long had they been knocked out for.
His body screams in protest as he pushes himself up. Falling asleep in such a shit position, and being covered in bandages sure as hell didn’t help. A hand presses to his forward, vision blurring for a moment. He had to have been exhausted.
A flash of blue, contrasting against the dark color of the couch–her hand was draped slightly off. (Did they fall asleep holding hands?). He shakes his head, pushing himself into a sitting position, before huffing. Gabriel runs a hand through his steadily growing hair, leaning his head back a little.
He turns, moving to tuck some of her hair behind her head. “Amelie.” He watches her for a moment, almost considering letting her sleep in. But that probably wasn’t the best idea. A warm, glove less hand settles on her shoulder.
“I’m pretty sure it’d be best if we’re both awake when Sombra gets here.”