❰ and regardless of the ordeal they just waded through, lalli says that he's tired and emil says that he could sleep and it's really as simple as that. as simple as retreating to the quiet and dark of their shared refuge and letting their bodies' need for rest put a few hours of distance between them and the things that lalli said.
for once, emil doesn't break the silence. the occasional glance stolen his way tells lalli that he's no worse for wear because of it, no more lost in his own head than lalli himself is. so the finn sees no reason to interrupt it, not until they've made it back to their room and kicked off their shoes and he's curling up in his nest of bedding beside the foot of emil's mattress. ❱
Goodnight? ❰ there's only the slightest questioning undertone, grasping for any indication that emil is going to be lying awake and ruminating about everything he's learned. ❱
( They've been here a while now. A non-negligible amount of time. If he asked Lalli, he might be able to get an exact number of days. After nine days -- ten? -- well, the point of it is that he lost count. One day seemed to blend into the next, with the additional confusion of sleeping while the sun was out, not even during midsummer season.
It's not just the feeling of time, but how routine and homey certain things felt. Even with a longer amount of time spent in that tank most recently, there was never mistaking that as a place associated with anything other than a job. This, however, is so compact and lived in -- because it is a bedroom. It's messing with him. Adapting to it all is really hitting home now, perhaps because his mind is already doing a lot of wandering.
Emil considers all of this as he strips himself of his shawl, laying it across one of the mostly-bare tables. There's a lot of adapting to do. A new place to be, a new way to wake up and fall asleep. The most pressing matter: adapting to someone who isn't that new. The weight of that feels very present, currently. He could think about that, and so much more, as he adjusts his pillow, the thin blanket. Sleep, though, does sound like the better option. )
Goodnight. ( Emil breathes it out, with the exhaustion in his voice palpable. He will sleep. Eventually. )
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for once, emil doesn't break the silence. the occasional glance stolen his way tells lalli that he's no worse for wear because of it, no more lost in his own head than lalli himself is. so the finn sees no reason to interrupt it, not until they've made it back to their room and kicked off their shoes and he's curling up in his nest of bedding beside the foot of emil's mattress. ❱
Goodnight? ❰ there's only the slightest questioning undertone, grasping for any indication that emil is going to be lying awake and ruminating about everything he's learned. ❱
no subject
It's not just the feeling of time, but how routine and homey certain things felt. Even with a longer amount of time spent in that tank most recently, there was never mistaking that as a place associated with anything other than a job. This, however, is so compact and lived in -- because it is a bedroom. It's messing with him. Adapting to it all is really hitting home now, perhaps because his mind is already doing a lot of wandering.
Emil considers all of this as he strips himself of his shawl, laying it across one of the mostly-bare tables. There's a lot of adapting to do. A new place to be, a new way to wake up and fall asleep. The most pressing matter: adapting to someone who isn't that new. The weight of that feels very present, currently. He could think about that, and so much more, as he adjusts his pillow, the thin blanket. Sleep, though, does sound like the better option. )
Goodnight. ( Emil breathes it out, with the exhaustion in his voice palpable. He will sleep. Eventually. )