creator_raven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
creator_raven) wrote2005-07-15 10:30 pm
creator_raven) wrote2005-07-15 10:30 pm
(no subject)
[Millitimed to the morning of July 19]
Inside Raven's room, all is quiet.
There is a dark coat slung over a chair, which itself is sitting in a haphazard fashion in the middle of the floor. A pair of boots rests by the door, and a scattering of shiny bits and pieces is strewn on the dresser.
On the bed, Raven is sleeping, one hand flung above his head. One of his feet hangs off the side of the bed, bare toes peeking out from under the covers.
Inside Raven's room, all is quiet.
There is a dark coat slung over a chair, which itself is sitting in a haphazard fashion in the middle of the floor. A pair of boots rests by the door, and a scattering of shiny bits and pieces is strewn on the dresser.
On the bed, Raven is sleeping, one hand flung above his head. One of his feet hangs off the side of the bed, bare toes peeking out from under the covers.
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But it's a present, and Raven loves presents.
Plus, sparkly. Sparkly is close kin to shiny, after all.
He looks conflicted. Pride? Dignity?
Oh, screw it.
"Thank you, Ace. It is certainly . . . pink."
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"See? Now you don't have to sleep up in the rafters anymore." It's possible she might have been worried about this. There's scary things up in the rafters, sometimes.
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He grins, and stretches. His back pops, rather loudly.
"You see?"
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"Ewww." But she's grinning, and dances away before he can retaliate.
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He laughs.
"Have you eaten, today?"
Is he thinking of cookies and tea?
Of course not.
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"Nope. Wanted to sneak this up first, in the hopes that you'd find it when you woke up, and I was long gone."
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His tone is innocent, but he is grinning like a fiend. He mocks because he cares, really.
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Weak. Although he does cave rather splendidly.
"I shall endeavor to do better next time, Ace. I promise that."
He wrinkles his nose.
"I am somewhat shamed that I did not wake earlier, in truth."
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No.
Perish the thought.
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"I would be eating breakfast, if someone hadn't woken up and ruined my plans." There's a definite undertone of 'and what do you plan to do about this?' in her voice.
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Raven heaves a sigh of the immensely put-upon.
"I will return."
He leaves.
The silly bird has neither shirt nor shoes. Hopefully Bar does not object.
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Hmm.
She had gotten up at a pretty ungodly hour to pull this off.
...
His blankets did look comfy, all piled up like that.
...
She shucks off her boots, and burrows into the warm pile. Mmmmmm....
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It neither opens, nor does anyone answer.
He taps again, a little harder.
Nothing.
He cheats, exerting a tiny push of will, and the door opens.
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"Tea?" It's plaintive. She's British, and it's early morning. Tea is necessary for further functioning.
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Also, the waffles.
"You can have waffles, or cookies, but not both."
His tone is a little sulky, but playful.
Oh, the lies he tells.
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"But what if I want cookies on my waffles?" She asks, oh-so-innocently.
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His tone is hopeful.
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And makes puppy-dog eyes. With batting eyelashes.
Yes, Ace is cruel.
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"I will get neither cookies nor waffles?"
He hands her the plate.
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Because she's a good sister.
"Ta, Raven." She's also a very happy sister, mostly underneath the blankets with her feet waving in the air, munching on folded-over waffles with strawberries inside.
Life is good.
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He then pulls the chair over to the bed, settling next to Ace and bracing one foot on the chair seat.
He settles the plate of cookies on his knee, and munches one.
He leans sideways against Ace, a little.
Life is very good, indeed.