exsiliumlogs | And all our troubles in the dark

Date & Time: Jan 21st
Location: Chloe and Charlie's cushy little flat
Characters: Charlie Cutter, Chloe Frazer
Summary: It's her birthday; she's not right
Warnings: MAGIC??? (and an initial lack of pants)

She feels better now. No questioning the how or why, no wondering about where she belongs: it's all as simple as common sense these days, right down to the tailored sweater she's taken to wearing round the flat or the expensive, unscuffed boots on her feet. She smells of sandalwood and magnolia, and the scent's a comfort she can't imagine living without - if there was ever anything wrong with her life before, Chloe has to suspect it had something to do with that. With the fact that she never went through all the routines or that they--

The thoughts clip there. Needle skipping across a record and she hardly notices. The sweater's on, jewelry off (save for the simpler one made of metal and leather, tucked away under a high collar) sheets tangled high around her thighs-- and her thighs round the broad bulk of his own-- and she's quick to nudge Charlie, voice low in his ear:

"Oi. Wake up, darling."

Threaded | Flat

He's been-- busy. Not that that's an excuse, but god knows she's been a touch distant these past weeks. Frustrating? Absolutely, but it means that when she does choose to shift back in, he isn't keen to question it. And he has been busy. Really. There's been strings to pull and rubbish networking to do, keeping people up to date with Lowell's negotiations with the New Initiative and all that nonsense. He certainly hasn't been getting much sleep.

Which is part of why it takes him so long to react to the heat of her breath against his ear and neck. Charlie shifts, momentarily burrowing his face deeper into the pillow; he makes a low, guttural noise of dismay.

"Five more minutes, love."

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