(no subject)

[shelley_winters]

It's the ache that wakes Shelley up, a few hours before she would otherwise have woken naturally. It isn't really that bad, she judges, sitting up slowly, but definitely unexpected, and nagging, like a dehydration headache. But... no. Yesterday Elan was treating her like an invalid, just as if she couldn't take care of herself... Which... she couldn't? No, that's not right, apart from the irritating pain, she feels fine.

Oh. And then, there is of course Elan lying next to her. Not wearing a shirt. Obviously.

She really wishes he wouldn't do that. No, she had been ill. Or... something, and that's why he refused to leave her the evening before, and then he'd dreamed something odd, and it's all very confusing.

Comments

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Drawing himself up slightly, he commented wryly, but without any venom. He had his own little ways of keeping himself sound of mind.

"I may be an anonymous shelver of books, but I should think a little dignity would not be too great an indulgence."

[shelley_winters]

"Yes, but it's breakfast. You're not heralding the birth of the heir to the kingdom."

He is not some plucky hero. This is not the grand arena.

"Could you pass a plate?"

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Deciding that kingdoms and heirs was a poor and potentially catastrophic topic for conversation, Elan instead only chuckled and handed her the plate.

"I suppose so."

[shelley_winters]

The pancake is deposited on the plate, and Shelley makes a shooing gesture with her free hand.

"You eat that one, or it'll get cold."

Another ladleful of batter is consigned to the flames.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Elan nodded calmly and walked over to the table and sat down obedient to her order. After dosing his pancake with lemon and sugar, he began to eat and was content to simply watch Shelley cook her pancake.