Rune’s flat, late night/early morning || Referencing. @eilidhodea
Rune was doing his best not to hover, but it was a fucking struggle.
Maybe it was the residual worry about his own siblings bleeding out around the edges — Mal was still missing, and Rune was getting to the point of fussing over Achara that he wouldn’t be surprised if she cut off all contact for the next two months until he evened out. He’d be incredibly guilty to admit aloud that Eilidh’s text was an effective distraction, but the moment he opened the door and saw the look in her eyes, any sense of relief vanished.
The guest room in his extravagant flat was already made up, if a bit minimalist and sterile — Rune couldn’t even remember the last time he had company that wasn’t his sister, which was exactly why he paced the kitchen while Eilidh took a moment to settle her things. It was rare that the two of them felt awkward around each other, but it was also rare that they spent much time together sober. Or vulnerable.
Rune let out a soft sigh, grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, and padded back in bare feet to lean in the doorway, holding one out to her. What happened? was on the tip of his tongue, but instead he cleared his throat and said, “The, uh. If you want a shower, the hot tap is kind of loose. Been meaning to get someone ‘round to fix it, but.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I can show you.”