Inner Mind

"Not sure I'll be around the next couple days. Sorry. Enjoy work though."
 
"Okie doke. Not to worry. Take care and I'll catch you later."

She prods him in the nose with an outstretched finger and then fades out in true Cheshire style.
 
She disappears off to work. Perhaps I should sleep in preparation for the same. I wander back to the chair I had fallen into sleep so easily last night in and sit down. I fidget and huddle in trying to get comfortable. Maybe sleep will be easy today.
 
"I am terrible at this sleeping thing. This is freaking obscene."

I'm almost yelling at the room. There isn't anyone here, but I'm still being rather loud for some reason. Eh. Suddenly, I grab the edge of a nearby coffee table and flip it up into the air. When it hits the floor it makes a loud crashing sound, but nothing else happens. I look at it expectantly, but nothing continues to happen.

"Seriously really tired right now. Not sleeping."

The flipped coffee table fails to respond.
 
A Wolfling wanders through, trailing the scents of sandalwood and vanilla. Looking for an E so that she can cuddle him until he crashes.
 
Wild tired brilliant dying eyes turn to find a wolf in all of her glory. I turn with them. The table lays on the floor at my feet, still over turned. I've been staring at it for hours. Crooked smile greets the graceful girl.

"Little wolf, you found me. Why are you here?"
 
Head tilts slightly, honey brown eyes gazing upon the man who gives every appearance of being rode hard and put away wet.

"Why am I here, E? To see you, of course. To drag you to a quiet corner and talk to you until you expire from boredom. To caress you into relaxation if you'll allow it."

A small smile. Tiny feet lead me ever closer until I am only a yard away from his taller, more solid form.

"Little Wolf. I like that. You may call me that whenever you've a mind to."

Small hand reaches out, strokes delicately over a chin.
 
When she touches my chin I jerk away, shuddering, and I don't know why. He doesn't know why about anything right now. I take a step back, but to survey the room and not create distance. I look back and forth. Carefully. Steadily. Intently. Then I look a bit confused. The bar, the book shelves, the wall and even the door have a slight curve to them. I never noticed before.

"I don't have any corners in here."

I walk to the window and look out it for a moment, but then shake my head. That won't do it all. Not now. Not like this.

"There would be corners out there somewhere, but right now I'd just get us lost. Losing myself with you out there would be bad. I don't know how, but it would."

I return to just were I was before the shudder, take a moment, and proceed as if none of the preceding had just happened.

"I don't have any corners in here, but the talking and caress both sound quite nice."
 
He is on edge, beyond the edge. I can see it~in the jerky motions, the statements that are not related to the here and now, the way he seems to be everywhere and nowhere, all within the space of a heartbeat. I want to calm him, give him something that will steady him.

My eyes take in his space, noting that he is right. There are no corners. No place to curl up and pull away. No where to stop and breathe when the world becomes to much and sleep is too difficult to find. I decide, then and there, that I will be his corner.

A small hand takes his larger one and grasps it tightly.


"Come on."

His fireplace crackles into existence, his armchair positions itself just so. I tug him toward them and stop just before the chair. Moving carefully, I slip into a spot just before him and push him backwards.

"Sit."

I want him seated. Then, I can comfort him to the best of my ability.
 
She leads and I follow. She places me and my world, and it and I are placed. She pushes.

In a fraction of a second there is something that in the next fraction is suppressed and gone. In that sliver of a moment that her hand touches my chest some deeper dark cries out inside and makes its demands. My eyes blaze with all the fury and rage there has ever been. I can see her in my mind's eye as she is pushed back, falling backwards into the stone pit where my fire is kept at the center. Then the slip of time is over and I sit.

I can't look at her. She had to see if not understand. I don't understand.
 
I watch him, my eyes taking in the tautness of his face.

He needs...

SO, once he is seated? I lower myself to his lap, pick up his hand, tilt my head back...and place his hand upon my throat. My tilted head find his shoulder, my eyes close.


What do you want?

My voice is husky, quiet.

Do you know?

My hand caresses~first the hand I placed upon my throat, then the corded strength of his forearm before drifting in a different direction to settle, eventually upon his thigh. My voice is as nonthreatening, as feminine, as I can possibly make it.

Lilting alto, husky.


I am here, you know. Nothing you could possibly do would ever equal what's been done to me...but if you need...I can take it. I promise.
 
My hearts is beating through my chest. Its hard to breath with my hand on her throat. I keep still, but everything in me wants to shake apart.

"No."

Single desperate word said for so many reasons. I am scared.
 
I nod, just once in understanding. Small hand rises and grasps his wrist. Steadying it. I know this. I can feel this. I can't fix this. But I can be here.

Then let me tell you a story...

Voice trails away for just a moment as I attempt to find words.

"Once upon a time, in the land of make believe, there lived a princess. She wasn't conventionally pretty or even very girly but she was very, very feisty. The king and queen had an exceedingly hard time marrying her off because she spent the majority of her time~running away, hunting down bandits, rapists, murderers and other bad things."

A laugh.

"Not because she felt that those things were inherently wrong. Not really. Truth be told, she felt that people should do whatever they want...anarchy...but those things were incorrect because someone else was involved and got hurt in the process. Her job was to fix it."

Another laugh

"Not because she needed to protect the weak. Hell, for the most part, she didn't even really LIKE weak people. She did it...because the strong should NEVER use their strength in that way. It made them less than...and she refused to be tarred by the same brush as those others who had strength and used it in a bad way."

Strong, slim fingers glide over rougher skin, adjusting so that she can use her smaller hand to close HIS hand over the slender column of her throat...not tightly, not enough to choke...just enough to remind herself that a man had a hand, just there.

"Anyway, the kingdom required that the princess marry but she thought~hell no and refused to give in. Bad choice as that's when the monsters came. The question becomes~does she marry to protect the weak from those who would prey upon them? Or does she marry to protect the strong who could not, would not, be able to fix it..."

Head turns slightly so that his face can be seen from the corners of my eyes.

"Tell me E, which do you think would be the only reason this particular princess would marry?
 
It feels right to have my fingers closed around her throat. Her life sits quietly in my hand as she tells her story and it is so comfortable. Exhaustion claws at me, but so do so many things that are so much stronger. I can’t even name them, but I feel their strength coursing through me. It all makes it so hard to listen, but I have to hear the story. I have to know it. I have to. I …

“The weak would fall under their own weight. The strong would turn away from her. She would burn and burn and burn for not making a choice, but I don’t think she could. She wouldn’t marry for the weak, they don’t deserve her. The strong don’t understand her. She couldn’t marry at all for a reason like that. The princess does everything for only her own reasons and no one else’s. Why would now be different?”

I don’t know where the words came from. I like her like this. I like her story.
 
A nod..he has the right of it. My princess is selfish. She would not marry to save the weak nor the strong. She would marry for her own reasons...or not at all. A low laugh, head resting comfortably upon his chest, tucked into the spot between chin and shoulder, feeling the relaxation only a strong hand upon my throat can provide.

"Truth, E. You've the right of it. But the princess DID marry, you see. Not for the weak or the strong. She married because the monsters needed the best the land had to offer...so she wedded one of the them to halt the influx of damage."

Another low laugh, body drifting into a more comfortable position, my heat wedded to his own, combining to make a bit of spark where only chill and pain reside.

"And anyway, in the land of make believe, who is to say that the monster wasn't just what the princess required to be...content?"

Eyes fall shut. He has gotten my point, if there was one to be made in the midst of the torrent of words. Now, he just requires a presence that won't run, that doesn't need him for anything...only that he is here until he has to go.

"Just say when you need me to move...I will."
 
Words from a wolf calmed a beast made out of shadows. The edge has been taken off the madness, but sleep isn't going to come. If it could it would only make things worse at this point. Again, I don't know how, but she made everything so much calmer.

"I'm not going anywhere, any time soon."

My hand still rests on her throat.
 
I nod.

If I have him for this time out of time, then I will rejoice in it and gather all the bits of him that I can manage. After all, he has done the same for me more than I can ever begin to tell him.

The weight of his hand makes me drowsy.

An odd feeling that. Rare that I allow ME, the wolf, to fall to any male...but he...well, he...

He is different. I hope he understands that.

Turning slightly, not to dislodge his hand, but to open myself more fully to him. Body is draped across his lap, a puppy soothed by the touch of a strong one. One small hand glides upward until it can settle at the nape of his neck, the other hands rests upon my own belly, fingers splayed.


"Do you need more words, E...or can I just lay here and steal your heat for my own...and dream dirty little thoughts?"
 
I chuckle.

"Dream your dirty dreams, Luna. I always welcome words from you, but my heart is calmed and since I haven't known what I would want all day I don't see starting now with which words."

My other hand finds a place to set itself on her hip.
 
His words, the soft almost perfect chuckle. He is almost centered. Almost okay...but it is better than he was and I know that I can not do more if he does not want it. His permission to dream lascivious things into being makes me grin.

"Ah, good. Then I shall imagine you and I...doing something a lot more strenuous then this..."

Full lips turn upward, a smile, just for him.

"Don't move this hand though.."

Hand moves upwards to tap the hand which rests upon my throat.

"It comforts me."
 
Time passes. I let her dream. I let those thoughts she spoke of curl up inside and take form for her. I think myself, about her. I think about a lot of things. Sleep reminds me of the claws sunk in me, not to leave or take me away for many hours. Even so, they distract me.

I grip on her throat tightens a little and then relaxes to where it had been. A reminder that we are both still here so she can hear my words and they aren't wasted on someone too far down the rabbit hole for them to reach.

"I want to hear your dreams, little wolf."

She's already drifted off. Best that way. We stay as we are.
 
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I awaken. Still in his lap. Why am I still in his lap?

"nngh..."

A soft whimper sound while I attempt to wake up.
 
"I was expecting a longer nap," I admit to her with a grin on my face. It feels strange to see her just waking like this. I'm not sure why, but it seemed less intrusive to have her sleep in my lap than wake in it.

"You slept well, I hope."
 
A soft giggle a slight wiggle, a low groan.

" I slept like the dead, E. And am ready to fall back into a bed, cover my head with blankets and resume sleeping...my body hates me for only averaging 12 hours in the past week and a half..."

Body stretches, head tilts, encountering a strong hand...still there.

"You getting ready for work?"
 
I shake my head. Its a fair assumption based on when I was being tired, but that just proves how much I needed to go to bed before.

"Its my night off. I get ready for work about four in the afternoon. Honestly, I'd be tempted to just sleep as long as I can and get up early, but I got a call about an hour ago saying I'd have an inspection in the morning. If I sleep now and get up for that I won't go back to bed. I'd be screwed."

Now that she's awake my hand slips away from her. It could return easily enough, but keeping it there for so long has made it stiff. I stretch my arms up above my head and yawn.

"Have to stay up."
 
A soft simile.

I know the feeling. I do.

Am finally off of overnights and I am busily catching up on all the sleep I have missed.

A soft frown of disappointment as he removes his hand from my throat. With a sigh, I swing myself around and stand up, stretching, groaning slightly.

I am so screwed on times of day that I no longer KNOW when I am coming or going.

It sucks.

A yawn.
 
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