let the wolves enjoy my bones [perdita]

Perdy debated answering his question properly. She fell silent as she watched the crackling fire, frowning in the soft glow. There were a hundred and one reasons why this wasn't a good idea - they weren't on the same page,  they were too different, they fought all the time, neither of them wanted to compromise, they were too independent, it was doomed to fail - but instead, she kept on stroking his hair. "Shush," she told Torrence gently, unsure if she wanted to have this conversation at all.

The longer he was here, the weaker her will became. Perdy was still mad at him. She was mad at herself, too. Why couldn't she just be attracted to men who wanted to be with her? It couldn't be that hard. This was the closest thing she'd ever had to a stable relationship. It had been, what, five years since they'd met?

Their argument had shifted things for her, though. She'd managed to catch herself, just in time before she fell. She'd made this mistake with Charlie, getting the wrong end of the stick and liking him more than he liked her. It was awful and uncomfortable and she wasn't willing to do this again, not with Torrence. It was painful but it was good. She'd needed it. She could just switch her feelings off like the men in her life seemed to like to do.

She'd zoned out and Torrence's question brought her back down to Earth with a bump as she looked down, surprised to see him gazing back and she faltered. "I was worried how you would be getting home." A half-truth. She knew that if she hadn't let him in, he'd go to a bar, hit on another woman and then go home with her. Torrence didn't have to sleep alone if he didn't want to. He'd always find a place to lay his head.

She let out a sigh, frustrated with herself. "Plus, it'd be rude." That was also true. Perdy didn't think she'd be able to sleep if she'd kicked him out and he was both drunk and high. He could get himself into all sorts of mischief and she'd feel like it was her fault. Without realising what she was doing, her fingers stroked across his forehead, her touch featherlight, her body on autopilot as she slipped into thought. She didn't want to do this. It felt like a fucking trap, like something he could squirrel away and throw back at her the next time they argued. It wasn't healthy to always be on guard. None of this was healthy.

"And because I didn't want to." Her words hung in the air as she carefully removed her fingers from his hair, letting them drop by her sides. There was no other reason why she hadn't turfed him out. Perdy had been expecting an apology, maybe even some earrings like he was prone to do when he really messed up, but this was something different entirely. She didn't want him to go. It was pathetic, really. What kind of loser chased after a man who didn't even like her? Charlie, Brennan and now Torrence. It was three for three.

It was a game of cat and mouse, only she was normally the one being tortured. It had to stop. He knew it, she knew it and yet here they were, on her couch. Quickly, she cleared her throat. "You should drink some water," she told Torrence, her voice sounding hoarse.

Torr gazed up at her, unblinking, watching her expression change as she looked across the room at the fire, the light dancing shadows on her face. He fought for a second to free his hand from the blanket she had laid over him just so he could reach up and touch her cheek in what he hoped was a gentle touch. He was too drunk and his depth perception was off so maybe it felt like more of a paw to the face, but he hoped not. "Don't," he said, his fingertips brushing her lips. He didn't want her looking like that. he hated that look on her face.

He didn't have the energy to keep his arm up like that though so it fell back down ungracefully and he found himself once again staring up at her. It would be really nice just about now to let himself drift into this drunk oblivion, but after the hellish week he had had, he wasn't quite sure she would give her two minutes out of her day the next time he showed up on her stoop. He wasn't sure why he was even thinking about that, why he even cared if she didn't want to see him. He couldn't even admit it to himself. What a sad sack he was. Torr cursed himself out internally before he realized he was muttering the words under his breath too. Shit.

A hmphed noise was all he responded with to her first reason and an even unhappier grunt followed it with her second. Her pity and politeness were not what he wanted. He wasn't sure what the hell he wanted but it wasn't those and he was pretty sure any pride he had had left was shredded into non-existence now. She didn't even think he could take of himself and sure, he was a bit on edge, but he could fucking get home if he wanted to. He had gotten here, hadn't he.

The frown that had been forming between his brows faltered a bit as his gaze returned to her face and then his eyes fluttered slowly to a close as she brushed her cool fingertips across his forehead, sweeping his hair to the side that had fallen over his brow. How could this feel so nice. He felt like he was drifting and not in a good way, but her hands kept him anchored. Her last reason made him blink up at her though and words spilled from his lips unbidden before his brain could think to filter. "I don't want you to," he told her plainly before he sucked on his teeth. Shit. What the hell was he saying. He couldn't be saying this shit to her, to anyone really, but especially not her.

And then it was too much, her hands on his forehead, in his hair, her scent wrapped around him like her blanket, her legs beneath him, he fought with the blanket around his torso as he tried to fling it off. It felt like a straitjacket all of a sudden and he struggled to sit up, feeling her hand on the center of his back as she helped him to a sitting position and that felt like a slap in the ass too. He leaned his elbows on his knees as his head spun and he refused to look at her. "Red I--" he stopped himself and cursed. Fuck this. Why was he even saying it, but he felt like she needed it. Like she deserved to know it? "I'm not good, Red." And he didn't think he wanted to be and he definitely didn't want to put in the effort to try to be good or even just good for her, but when he was here and she was like this with him, he keenly felt the differences and he hated it.

The touch on her face was unexpected. That was the second time he'd cradled her cheek that night and that alone should be enough to ring some alarm bells. The only time Torrence's hands were anywhere near her face was when they were in her hair and he was yanking her towards him. He'd accidentally brushed her nose but she didn't mention it, instead opting to listen. Perdita tried her best to relax and reset her face at his insistence but a trace of her frown lingered.

She turned her head, just in time to kiss his fingertips before he dropped his hand and she blinked. This was new. They didn't do…this. Unaware that she'd been holding her breath, Perdita let it out in a quick exhale before she arched her eyebrows as Torrence mumbled, somewhat incoherently - something about not caring if she let him in or not? She let out a short laugh; at least that hadn't changed.

Perdita didn't think either of them had meant to be so honest and she swallowed anxiously at the implications. Torr had previously given her so much shit for "wanting more" or being "clingy". The arrangement was just sex. He'd become angry when she'd hinted she felt differently and he'd thrown it back at her but here he was, head on her lap, saying he didn't want to leave. "Okay," she agreed gently, the corners of her full lips down turning into another frown. "Then stay."

Torrence had accused her of trying to trap him into something he didn't want and she couldn't help but see the irony. It was so easy to go along with it, to agree, to just fall but at what cost? This wasn't the man she was used to. Perdy was used to smirks and sarcasm, swearing and fighting. She hadn't seen any real emotion from him, bar last week when he'd screamed at her.

But she was broken out of her reverie as he began to stir. Like a turtle on his back, Torrence was struggling as she helpfully placed her hands on his spine to give him a gentle push upright. He hunched over and her eyes widened, hoping he wasn't going to vomit and there was a brief surge of panic as she thought not the rug! before she blinked.

What did that even mean? Biting her lip, she scooted closer to him, attempting to peel off his leather jacket for him. "You're not bad," Perdy said softly, her hand hovering over his back as though she wanted to touch him but managed to refrain. Sure, he did some things she didn't like (fighting, shagging other girls, crashing her family parties and disappearing for weeks at a time) but that didn't make him bad.

"I don't think you're any worse than I am," the tall witch admitted with a soft smile, her stomach twisted into knots at the way he looked. Was this her fault? Because she'd always thought he was the Bad Guy? Admittedly, Torrence had accepted and leaned into it but if he started showing up on time and buying her flowers, she didn't think she'd like that.

Eventually, she placed a hand on his back as she rubbed it in slow, concentric circles, her eyebrows coming down in a rush to furrow. Perdy didn't think she'd ever tried to "change" him - there wasn't a single person on Earth that could manage that - but his comment unsettled her. Now that he wasn't looking at her, she thought it was her turn to be a bit more honest. "Who said I wanted good?" She asked Torrence gently, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Okay. Then stay. He made a noise at her words. He wanted to, of course he wanted to. That's why he had been banging on her front door and creeping on her stoop until she had deigned to answer the door. But he knew whatever this fragile truce was between them that it wouldn't last. It couldn't. He'd do something to screw it up or she'd take offense to something he didn't even think twice about. She wanted something from him that he didn't even know how to give. And wasn't even sure that he wanted to.

But he didn't want to go either. Fucking hell. "Where's that whiskey," he muttered, glancing around blearily. This was way too fucking much and he wanted to go into the oblivion. There was too much going on in his head right now and he needed to drift away in a drunken stupor. He was already halfway there.

Her hands were on him and he almost leaned away, but he belatedly realized that she was trying to help him out of his jacket. His limbs felt heavy and he was uncoordinated as he tried to help him get out of his jacket. Torr signed a huff as it was finally off and he felt marginally better without it, but her hand on his back felt stifling. This time he did shy away from her touch. "Don't do that, don't fucking say that," he said, refusing to play into her game of 'you're not as bad as I am.' That was a fucking lie and he knew it. She probably knew it too. There were both two different versions of fucked up, but there was no competition on who was worse and he didn't even know why the hell he had said it in the first place and wasn't going to point out all the reasons why she shouldn't give him the time of day.

He pushed himself to his feet, unsteady for a moment as his stomach lurched and he held his head in one hand as he paced away from her. Who said I wanted good? "Then what do you want, Perdy? What the fuck do you want. Do you even know?" he asked, splaying out his hands as he looked over at her from near the fireplace. He didn't even know what he wanted. How did she have any clue when he felt so fucking lost.

"Absolutely not," Perdita briskly replied to his plea for the whiskey. What he needed was water and a good sleep. Neither of those seemed to be options. Torrence shrugged off her hand as though it was something foul and she frowned in response. She thought she was helping - how was she making this worse? "I --" promptly, she shut up as he got to his feet and veered. Her eyes were fixed on him and her lips were pale as she forced herself to swallow, her hands anxiously digging into the skin of her thighs as she sat stiffly.

She watched him go, wondering how fast they'd flipped-flopped from a tender embrace to him now looking like he didn't want anything to do with her. But again, he asked the loaded question.

Perdita wanted a boyfriend but...without actually having one. She wanted all the perks; presents, time together with someone, hand holding, sex, someone waiting for her when she got home but without the stress, the arguments and the inevitable compromise. Charlie had called it "hearts and flowers" and she'd laughed but she was dismayed to find out like she was every other woman on the planet. So much for originality.

She didn't answer straight away. Perdy's eyes strayed to his form and instantly wished she hadn't. Growing frustrated by her inability to form sentences that accurately described the turmoil she was in and the fact that she'd lost the upper hand, she let out a sigh.

"I want - wanted - commitment," she finally told Torrence, correcting herself. "But I didn't want to commit back," she raked a hand through her hair. "I wanted it on my terms. You know how horribly jealous I get," the tall witch went on, choosing to look at the fire than his face. "I wanted dinner dates and you to laugh at my jokes. I wanted you to think I was sexy, funny, charming, special. I wanted a relationship." It hung in the air and she shrugged. "I projected what I wanted on to you and then got angry when you didn't live up to my expectations. That's not your fault," she added, just in case Torrence wanted to yell some more.

"What I want now is to stop feeling like this," Perdita admitted, turning her head to look at him. "I'm tired," she sighed as she rubbed at her left eye. "Tired of wondering who you're shagging, what you're doing, why I'm the one suffering and why I make you so mad." Perdita fixed him with a stare. "Why do I make you so mad?" She pursed her lips as her eyebrows furrowed before she gave a short, humourless laugh. "It's fucked up," she said, sounding exhausted. "It's messing with my head. You're messing with my head."


"The lines are blurred," Perdy announced as she turned to look at him - properly. "That's on me but you aren't blameless," she reminded Torrence. "You can't kiss my cheek or stroke my hair or buy me earrings. You can't show up here or Italy or Greece. You can't call me Red or pick out dresses. You can't fall asleep in my bed with your arm around my waist. We can't keep fighting." Swallowing, she stared at him with wide eyes.  "None of this is what we agreed on. Do you have any idea how confusing that is?" Perdy whispered, her hands in her hair.

"Well?" he asked as he stared at her, his voice gravelly from yelling outside on her stoop earlier, his body feeling heavy. So fucking heavy. Why was she so quiet. She was never this quiet. It made him uneasy. He was almost regretting that thought a moment later as she went on and on, answering his question, giving him exactly the information he wanted, and none of it was something he wanted to hear.

What a fucking mess this was. She went on and on and he just stared at her, studying the lines of her face, feeling that spark of anger and irritation and hopelessness and exhaustion. "That's all bullshit," he told her, glaring at her, the familiar cloak of anger wrapping around him again even though he didn't have the energy or heaviness for the real rage he usually had. "We had all that - dinner dates, a relationship--" sort of, for the most part "--fuck, how long have we been doing this? Three years? More than that? What more do you want from me?" He pulled at his hair, harder than he needed to, and the pain of the yanking centered him.

Torr narrowed his gaze at her tone, his chest tightening and he was moving a second later. You're messing with my head. It's not something he intended.. for the most part. But even he didn't understand why he didn't like to know that he was messing her up. He was there kneeling in front of her a second later, needing to be closer to her, his hands gripping hers as he met her gaze, shaking his head. "It's not confusing to me. You want all those things too," he said, not liking that she was telling him all the things he couldn't do, especially since it was a list of all the things he liked. It was simple to him though. When he was there and with her, it was great.. for the most part. And when he wasn't, he wasn't. Why did it have to be confusing.

He brought up one of his hands to touch the side of her face, frowning at her. "What do you want from me, Red," he asked in more of a statement than a question. "Can't we just keep what we have? I won't get so mad," Torr promised even though he wasn't sure at all if that was true or not.

Perdita blinked. "I beg your pardon?" She asked, her eyebrows arched. She stared at Torrence, disappointed that her impassioned speech hadn't had the desired effect. She frowned. "You're kidding." It wasn't a question and before she knew it, she let out a rather unladylike snort of laughter. "You call what we do to each other a relationship?" She said, sounding exasperated as she grinned in the dim light. "Fucking Hell," she swore softly, her eyes wide in amazement. "I dread to think who you've dated in the past."

Torrence stated their shared timeframe and she bit her lower lip - she wasn't laughing now. Three years. "Probably a bit longer," Perdy stated, trying to stay upbeat before the realisation that whatever this was really had been her longest "relationship".

He was on his knees and the motion caused Perdita faint alarm. He was holding her hands. She looked down at her lap, just to make sure she wasn't drunk herself. They never held hands. Well, except for when he had hers pinned to the mattress or the wall but even then, he usually grabbed her wrists instead and --

She exhaled slowly as she let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. She met Torrence's eye and she swallowed. "I do," Perdy admitted gently. "But don't you see that's the problem?" She asked, her eyes flicking back and forth across his face. She needed him to agree with her so this would stop hurting. "If it's just sex," she went on, her hands relaxing under his touch as she squeezed his hands back in return. "It should never have gotten this far." The moment one started to care for their partner, it was game over. She knew it. He knew it.

Out of all the Regans, Perdita hadn't thought she'd get tangled up with him. If anything, it would have been Aeric or Casimir. Torrence hadn't even been in her orbit but did that explain why she sabotaged every chance at happiness with someone else? Because she wanted happiness with him? She'd met plenty of nice men but these men weren't Torrence. And she was mad at him for that.

Her bright eyes slipped to a close as Torrence touched her face in an uncharacteristically soft manner. Perdita opened her eyes and offered him a slow smile. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she announced in a weak attempt at a joke.

"I don't know." She wasn't giving Torr anything to work with but she didn't really know herself. He refused to change and she refused to compromise, so they were stuck in a never-ending cycle of anger and miscommunication. Perdita looked at him - really looked at him. She chewed on the inside of her lip as she thought. It'd be easy to slip back into things because for months, it had been great. Then she'd had her come to Jesus moment with Charlie and it had messed everything up. She couldn't believe the musician was still screwing with her and he wasn't even in the county.

"Why do you want to keep going?" Perdita asked him directly, her eyes boring into his. She was half expecting Torrence to say because he liked shagging her or because she very rarely turned him down. Turning her head, she gently kissed his palm. "Tell me the truth and perhaps we can."

He didn't want to argue, he wasn't here to fight, not really, but it was just so natural that he couldn't fight it. Not when he was in the sorry state he was. "Don't do that," he cursed at her. "Don't fucking do that. Get off your fucking high horse as if you're any better with your 'relationships' than I am." But her sarcasm and disbelief needled him and he wanted to prove her wrong, but he knew he couldn't. He was terrible at what most women considered relationships. That's why he didn't do them. No point in trying if he was inevitably going to fail.

"I won't get so mad," he said again, his voice firmer. He could control his anger if he wanted to. He would just go to Grimli more or-- he didn't fucking know, but if that was the issue, if that made this go away, he could do it. Torr had felt like a little shit after she had left the other night, smashing his stuff to bits, but at least they hadn't been at her apartment and it had only been his belongings. What did it matter anyway. He would buy her all new shit if that's what she wanted.

Her 'I don't know' made him squeeze her hand a little harder. That's not what he wanted to hear, but even in the state he was in, he knew not to push. He found himself speaking anyway. "We can make it work, can't we," he implored. "I won't be such an arsehole and we can go to dinner more often if that's what you want. We can go someplace right now even. I'll show you my flat in Singapore. You'll like it," he promised her, his fingers threading through hers, his tired cobalt blue eyes meeting her icy blues.

Red's question made him feel caged in and he glanced away from her stare, over her shoulder at nothing in particular, and he fought with himself, his knees starting to hurt from how he was kneeling. He clung to that pain, centering himself, taking a breath. When he glanced back at her, he still didn't have an answer for her. "I just want you," he said lowly, the only truth he had, wanting it, no needing it to be enough.

"But the view is so nice from up here," Perdita answered Torrence sharply, her tone laced with sarcasm. She couldn't help it. Her instinct was to fight back. She didn't want to roll over and play dead but this didn't improve things. If anything, things were getting infinitely worse.

His insistence that he wouldn't get so mad anymore simply earned him a patient smile. He was lying, even if he didn't know it. While Torr's anger was a problem, it wasn't the problem. He was distant, unpredictable, unreliable. He didn't make plans. He was self-centered and emotionally stunted. He made her sad more than he made her happy. Her smile was still in place. "I appreciate that," she informed him gently. "But don't make me any promises."

"Ow," Perdy whispered, the grip on her hands and then his question pushed her into free fall. She stared at him, not understanding what was happening, her lips parted to agree before she stalled. She didn't have the heart to tell him that no, they couldn't make this work. They were a mess when they were apart, even more so when they collided but they fit. How long had she waited for him to finally say this? Six months, a year? But this wasn't real. Torrence was too drunk to be thinking straight and that made it even more painful.

Perdy bit her lower lip. He was offering exactly what she wanted but she was looking for a catch, a loophole, something, anything. She wanted it. She wanted to jump in headfirst but something stopped her.

His insistence that they could go somewhere right now made her laugh, but not unkindly. She stayed silent, wondering if one wrong word might break this brittle truce. There was a lump in her throat as a sense of guilt washed over her. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Torrence was offering her a chance at real happiness but she was hesitant.

Her smile softened, the tiredness creeping in and the adrenaline seeping out. She didn't know he had a place in Singapore. "I'm sure I would," she assured him quickly, not entirely convinced she'd ever get to see it. She wondered why he hadn't taken her before.  Perdy wanted to go - bright lights, big city, a romantic getaway. She really did but the voice in the back of her head, the one she easily drowned out, told her it was too late.

Torrence avoided her eye but she kept hers glued to his face, her hands warm within his as she could see he was struggling. His admission should have brought her joy and she smiled to show that she acknowledged it but it was small and she nodded. "Me too," she whispered in agreement before she cleared her throat. Perdy hadn't meant to admit that she'd wanted him also and she folded her lips together in a vain effort to keep anything else from spilling out.

She dipped her head so it was close to his, her eyes wide and imploring. "I think," she began, speaking softly. "That we should talk about this in the morning, yes?" Perdita asked, looking at Torrence properly. This was too much. It was too heavy. It wasn't a yes but it also wasn't a no. "Come on," she urged him as she carefully pulled her hands out of his grasp and the cool air rushed up to greet her. "Let's get you to bed."

He didn't like her telling him what he could or couldn't do. The very idea was against his nature even if it was sensible. Logic had no place here though. "I can make you any promises I want," he told her stubbornly, clenching his jaw before her heard her whispered complaint and glanced down, realizing how hard he was squeezing them. "Sorry," he murmured as he gentled his grip, but didn't let her go.

She was quiet though and he wasn't used to that. He felt the need to say more, say whatever it took to convince her, to win whatever this little argument was. Even her smile wasn't exactly what he wanted, but at least it was something. I'm sure I would. "Well then, let's go. Now. Tomorrow. Whenever," he told her. It was that simple for him. She might like it? He'd take her. Easy. Except he was too drunk and high to apparate her so they'd have to get a portkey? Fuck, he couldn't think logistics right now.

Why did she have to make everything so difficult. Her whispered agreement had him swinging his gaze back to her in a motion that was too quick and made his vision spin for a moment before it settled out. "Then don't be so difficult, love. We want the same thing," he told her, not liking the little smile on her lips. It didn't feel real and Torr was greedy. He wanted more.

But she was already pulling back, metaphorically and physically, and he gave a short, frustrated sigh. "Fine," he snapped, not wanting to talk about anything more. Why did chicks always want to hash out every minutia. He hated talking. But at least she wasn't kicking him out and perhaps he could convince her just like he had tonight, especially when he had more of his faculties online and in play. He heaved himself up to stand, his knees groaning from kneeling for so long before he felt his stomach roll. He forced that reaction down as he followed her up the stairs, leaning heavily on the hand railing. He had puked in a lot of places and he wasn't too ashamed of any of them, but it seemed like a bad omen to let it happen now.

When they got to her room, he dropped heavily onto her bed, his hands on his knees as he watched her move about the room, a smirk playing about his lips. Whenever they were in this room, he was usually only thinking one thing.

"Okay," Perdita agreed with an eager nod of her head, keen to call his bluff. "Make me one, then." She watched him expectantly, her eyebrows raised. She didn't want this. She hadn't ever really wanted to fight but it seemed like the only language Torrence understood. The grip on her hands loosened and she looked down at her lap, surprised by the gentleness. She brushed off his apology with a shrug.

The response to his suggestion that they head to Asia right that minute made her snort with laughter. It was sweet, actually, but completely implausible. She tilted her head, her smile softening to show that she was flattered. "Another time," she told Torr in an effort to placate him. Perdita wasn't stupid. If he hadn't been completely off his face, the mention of Singapore would never have arisen.

He called her difficult and her head snapped upwards, eyes wide. She'd never been anything but honest and upfront with him. He was the one who was making things difficult. Offended, she parted her lips to protest but nothing came out except a grunt of annoyance. "We don't," she informed him quickly. After that screaming match last week, it was clear (to her at least) that they were on very different pages.

But at least the conversation was closed. Torrence was up off the floor and watched him for a second before standing herself and clearing her throat. They climbed the stairs and she had every intention of putting him in one of the guest bedrooms but he was settled. "Did you want to brush your --?" Perdita asked as she exited the en suite, holding up a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush before she sighed in defeat.

"No," she warned him after seeing that familiar glint in his eye. She put the utensils down and stepped to the bed, reaching out to helpfully untie his boots and pull them off for him. Perdy met his eye briefly. She'd be lying if she didn't want to do anything. "Arms up," she coaxed him as she removed his tee shirt, pulling it upwards slowly to watch the reveal of his tattoos while she had the opportunity. "Nothing else is coming off," she told him pointedly with a smirk before she turned off the lights. She didn't need to see him to know where he was - she could just feel him.

Perdita crawled into bed, a polite distance away from him, as she slipped under the covers with a soft sigh. She looked up at the ceiling before her eyes strayed to him as she turned her head.

He knew that look of hers and yet he couldn't quite fight the need to rise to the challenge. "Fine, I will," he said of making her promises, but then words left him. What could he promise her that she would want. What could he possibly promise her that would make her stay. Especially when he knew he was shit at remembering, keeping or following through altogether. Shit, what the fuck was he doing.

But then a thought came to the forefront of his hazy mind and he latched on to it like a life raft. "Singapore," he breathed and it wasn't even a full sentence promise but it's what he had. Then Torr added a nod as if saying the three syllables aloud made it an even better idea than when it had been just inside his brain. He could take her there. Why the hell not. He hadn't been in what. A year? Maybe more than that? She would like it. What did it matter if he hadn't really shared that place with anyone before. He wasn't even sure if Ness knew about it.

There she was again, insisting on being stubborn, fighting just to fight. He just glared at her mulishly until they were both moving to the stairs, waiting for her on the edge of her bed, noticing the sway of her hips and wanting to touch her there. His finger clenched as they gripped his knees.

Torr couldn't help but smile tiredly at her flat 'no'. How easy it was for her to read his mind. Then again, his thoughts were really based in only a handful of departments. Seeing her at his feet as she untied his boots and slipped them off brought up a myriad of other thoughts, but he kept his dark gaze on her as he obliged her and lifted his arms, feeling the cool kiss of the air against his fevered skin. His reaction time was too slow as he reached out to grab her waist, but she had already moved away to shut off the light. Dammit.

Bare-chested and barefoot but still in his jeans, he scooted back, staying on top of the covers because he was hot as it is, his eyes tracking her as she crawled under the blankets. The dark of the room like a blessed hallelujah to his compromised senses. It wasn't even a second before he was pulling her closer to him, his arm wrapped around her waist, wanting to feel her next to him. He found the crook of her neck easily, breathing in her familiar scent like jasmine and white florals, before he whispered her name. "Red.." But with eyes closed and his body close to her, whatever words he wished he had weren't there. What the hell was he supposed to say to her. What did he want to say to her. Sorry? Was he? It didn't seem like enough. Maybe he could promise to do better. But the doubt that felt more familiar than even the line of her body against his warned him off. Fuck.

Torr kept trying to find the words, but with the quiet and her and the fresh scent of the sheets, he was sleeping before any answers came to him.

He'd promised to take her to Singapore. Sort of. Perdita decided not to answer, not because she wanted to be wilfully rude but more that she didn't have high hopes for it. It, however, bumped around her head as she stared at the ceiling as though somehow expecting the action to soothe her mind.

Torrence's hands were on her almost instantly, pulling her closer with surprising gentleness. Her body moved towards him, her legs tangled up in her sheets as she rolled before his touch made her still. She couldn't see him in the dark of her bedroom but she let out a short exhale that she didn't know she was holding. Her eyes slipped to a close as goosebumps rose on her exposed skin, causing her to shiver as a thrill of something shimmered up her spine. This felt nice, it felt right - his lips on her neck, nuzzling, comfortable, but how many rules had they already broken tonight? She stayed still as his breathing became heavier and he was soon asleep, leaving her wide awake.

----

Perdita hadn't slept well. She'd spent half the night obsessively dissecting the events of the previous night and the other half worrying that he might vomit on her bedsheets. She must have drifted off at some point because when she cracked her eyes open, she found her cheek pressed snugly against Torr's chest.

She paused. Blinking her eyes and letting out a soft hiss of annoyance at the early morning birdsong as her bedroom rushed up to meet her. Letting out a soft yawn, she cautiously tried to remove the arm she'd had slung across his waist. This was bad. Like, really bad.  Cuddling wasn't in their repertoire - this wasn't what they did...but it did feel nice. Soft. Comfortable. Still hazy with sleep and the warmth of his body lulling her back under, she shifted so she could pull her head away and bit her lip as she did so.

He looked so peaceful when he was unconscious and not causing her undue stress and panic. With care, she reached out a hand to gently brush a lock of his dark hair away from his forehead, her fingers slowly trailing over his shoulder blades and down his spine. Perdita rested her cheek back to her pillow to watch him sleep, like he was the most fascinating thing in the entire world. Warily, she lifted her duvet and gave a sigh of relief to see that she was still in her pyjamas, albeit with one button undone.

"Torr," she whispered, her voice gentle but hoarse. Her hand slid over his hip as she retracted it so she could softly tap on his collarbone. "Torrence," Perdy tried again as the pinkish colour of the sunrise began to filter into the room. Growing impatient, she prodded his nose with her finger. "Oi, dickhead, wake up."

Torr slept heavily in the way that the drugs and alcohol he had indulged in made for a dreamless, deep sleep and yet he still felt like shit. How much had he had to drink last night? Shit. He had only woken up once throughout the night, which he didn't really remember, but Red had slithered to the other side of the bed and Torr found himself chasing her across the mattress to wrap his arm around her waist again, his hand straying under her pajama top to lay flat against her stomach before drifting back off. Morning came and he was still sleeping like the dead, his mouth hung open a bit, his dark hair flopped over his forehead, messier and matted more than usual.

He came awake slowly, the light was so fucking bright against the back of his eyelids that it gave him no incentive to wake up all the way. And he didn't have to look at his watch to know it was too early. Way too fucking early. He grumbled against her pokes, faintly hearing her call his name before the last blow came and he blinked blearily at her as he squinted through sleepy eyes. "What the fuck," he muttered, annoyed, before he realized it was her and then like a wave, all of the events of last night started to come back to him.

Shit.

So instead of facing it, he grabbed her again and pulled her closer while simultaneously moving nearer, threading his legs through hers, both for the touch and for limiting her escape. "Too early, go back to sleep," he grumbled as he buried his face in her neck and breathed in her scent. And yet as much as he wanted to sleep, his stupid fucking brain was back online and running through every shitty thing he had done yesterday.

At least he didn't snore, Perdy thought distractedly as she watched him begin to stir. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep next to someone who did on a regular basis. The thought jarred her, like a needle skipping on a record player and she frowned - where had that thought come from?

His expletive made her snort with laughter. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she joked before she let out a grunt as she was pulled again. She found herself pressed up against Torrence once more and she shivered as the warmth of his body radiated through the thin material of her pyjamas. She shifted, extending a long leg to wrap around the back of his calf muscle out of habit as they formed a familiar human pretzel.

"Torr," she began again, half-heartedly trying to escape but quickly gave up and sank back down into the comfortable mattress; at least she'd tried. Sort of. Her bright eyes closed as Torrence nuzzled into her neck, goosebumps rising on the flesh she had exposed as she let out a soft hum of pleasure. "It's not that early," she countered, sounding drowsy in their embrace. This was nice. She was warm and sleepy and safe but a small part of her brain was telling her to get up, to stop. Familiarity breeds contempt, after all.

Perdy shifted carefully, attempting to curve her slender body around his to leave no space between them. "That feels nice," she mumbled in encouragement. They did need to talk. She'd promised him as much hours ago but drunk Torrence and sober Torrence were two very different people. Absently, she took the back of one of his hands and placed it comfortably on her thigh as she wriggled, sliding it higher up.

"I have to get up," she told Torrence, despite not moving an inch. "Come on," she urged him gently. "I'll even make you breakfast."