[ Whoever said eight hours was a healthy amount of sleep was just jealous of people who can sleep right through to the heat death of the universe — which doesn't seem too bad right now, considering the way her head throbs behind her defiantly shut eyelids. Maybe if Aventurine would stop his yapping and just let her rest...
...
Ah, there it is, the mental record scratch. Beckoning of the heat death of the universe be damned, Stelle's eyes fly open, hands rising swiftly to push her ashy hair out of her face (and away from him, did she touch him anywhere awkward??? help) to clock a familiar set of Avgin eyes. It hasn't been long at all since she assisted (citation needed) with his and his fellow Stonehearts' departure from The Reverie, yet the way she stares at him now, it's like she's seen a ghost. Like, if anyone she knew was going to be here, of course it would be him, but — ]
In my bed?! Aventurine, you — [ she got her words SO scrambled ] W-wait, did we —
[ Did they? She had a lot to drink, sure, but she'd remember, right? He seems the type to make it memorable, which is not what she needs to think about right now.
Scurrying back to the far edge of the bed, her lips press into a thin line, poised to say something — before she turns her face back into her pillow and utters a muffled: ] Pom-Pom has forsaken me. Let me sleep forever.
good to see u too, daventurine
...
Ah, there it is, the mental record scratch. Beckoning of the heat death of the universe be damned, Stelle's eyes fly open, hands rising swiftly to push her ashy hair out of her face (and away from him, did she touch him anywhere awkward??? help) to clock a familiar set of Avgin eyes. It hasn't been long at all since she assisted (citation needed) with his and his fellow Stonehearts' departure from The Reverie, yet the way she stares at him now, it's like she's seen a ghost. Like, if anyone she knew was going to be here, of course it would be him, but — ]
In my bed?! Aventurine, you — [ she got her words SO scrambled ] W-wait, did we —
[ Did they? She had a lot to drink, sure, but she'd remember, right? He seems the type to make it memorable, which is not what she needs to think about right now.
Scurrying back to the far edge of the bed, her lips press into a thin line, poised to say something — before she turns her face back into her pillow and utters a muffled: ] Pom-Pom has forsaken me. Let me sleep forever.