ACCIDENTAL AFFECTION … ll @tenschie ll accepting ! ❥ for your muse to cuddle up next to mine while asleep on the couch
Sleep is for the damned. Only the paranoid but reckless, only those at the limit of body’s resources.Technically, anyone who doesn’t seek to die within a span of [ fewer days than most think ] participates in this event. To Sasori’s mind [ paranoid, rarely reckless outside of calculations ], sleep is for those who don’t care to stay on guard any longer.
She could kill him, and he seeks to test her. ( Granted, he’s little reason to suspect her interest in his demise, but logic could not overpower caution. )
[ Would it be too great a leap, to say perhaps he trust her - if only not to kill him as he sleeps? If only to face him for one last battle? Or has he just become that tired. ]
The inn she’s … lead him to is closer to decrepit than comfort can appreciate. Still, thin walls make for lower risks and worthless furniture makes for nothing to mourn. Both classed S and in their thirties - marks of those who know the value of coming prepared. Theirs are seals almost without match, and those be placed about the shoddy room to keep watch in humans’ stead.
And he is, very, tired. Fuck her, anyway. If she wants to baby him this badly, so she will ( what should he care anymore ).She leaves him a mess of confusion, frustration, a hurt that infuriates him more than anything else. For he holds on where he should not. And he cannot seem to prefer a severing of … well. If there are ties betwixt them.
But even amid carelessness and caution both, Sasori does not truly sleep. Is neither blind nor deaf to the stillness of her form as study traces his, the quiet emphasis on noise as she takes a seat beside —That is not beside him. Freshly invigorated, one’s heart beats fast and obnoxious. Amber hues - WIDE yet blind, senses abruptly fixated on the weight and heat of another’s body upon his.
For whatever ( surely incongruous ) reason, an image of lion cubs flits through his mind. Sticks there, sinks in. Unbalances his pulse.
OF COURSE, she doesn’t bother with explications ( it is her silence that drives him mad - how to decide when he knows nothing? ).
… but push her off he does not.
[ Resettles with minute motions, somewhat stiffly. Forces closed his eyes and sinks into the fevered throb within his chest. Ignores? Yet relishes. ]
Sleep doesn’t approach him in those few hours shared, but rest seems to.
