germany | june 2004
There was a stir against him, Neville lingered in the place between half-asleep and awake and vaguely still existing in a dream. The storm outside lashed against the windows that peeled through Arden's flat; it felt almost as if they were in a greenhouse, funnily enough. Or maybe it was the dream. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over to the glass of water he'd poured to share that shone under the moonlight on her bedside table. It was less of a table and more of the hard space that made up the area of her loft-bed.
Neville rubbed the start of sleep from his eyes, trying to gauge the time of night based on where the moon was shining in, washing them up.
"Hmm?" He'd fully intended on making as little of himself as possible as to not wake her further, but he couldn't stop himself. Obviously, he thought as he exhaled something between a breath and a sigh. All it took was one sign of a word from her mouth. "Y'okay?" Neville mumbled, glancing over his shoulder where the figure of Arden laid curled up at his back. It wasn't a scene for the first time, he'd been there before, but it was one he was still getting used to.
"Here," He leaned over for the glass and brought it to her. "Your friends are mad..." Neville ran a hand over his forehead. The hangover was already creeping into the high of the drunk.
