Not their smartest decision ever.
RL Date: 8/4/09
IC Date: 5/20/20 --Log, including the bit about the humor, taken from T'rev. :)
There's no real reason to be in here on a day like today, so pretty much no one is! Except those people who have legitimate reasons, like Jaeyi. She's off in those kitcheny realms, ones that house things like spices and flour and all the dry goods that get transferred from great big containers into smaller containers, neatly stored in cupboards upstairs. And, for all it's not particularly exciting, that's her occupation this morning: spice jars, all lined up on the edge of a shelf, all labeled and waiting, while she opens larger containers to funnel cinnamon or garlic powder or whatever. The sneeze, the way she waves her hand in front of her face, is probably indicative of a more potent spice-- pepper or the like.
"What is that? Some kinda pepper?" A familiar voice, very familiar voice what with the drawl and all. T'rev rounds the corner, waving a hand in front of his face and holds his hanky out to Jaeyi, eyes twinkling just a little bit. "Careful you don't sneeze your head off, it's too pretty to go rollin' around in here." What /he/ might be doing down here, is not readily obvious.
Wiping her nose with her hand probably wouldn't have been a very good idea, considering her occupation, so Jaeyi takes the handkerchief immediately, before she really even acknowledges its source. The cloud that puffs around her, the smell of it answers for the fact that, yes, it's pepper, so she leaves it unsaid. Instead, after a quick pass of hanky over nose, she settles her attention on the bronzerider in the more customary manner, dark and happy and still quite thrilled at the look of him. "Aw, ain't you just full of flatter. You're busy or you came to save me from losing my head?" Roundabout 'why are you here?'
"I try," T'rev drawls out with a warm smile and fetches one shoulder up against a shelf support, eyes conveying about the same sentiment as Jaeyi's though he doesn't voice any of it, no matter how deserted this particular stores room is. "I have the recipe for Terriv spiced klah and I'm bein' an idiot and lookin' for all the ingredients myself instead of asking very well-qualified bakers such as yourself to do it for me," the Weyrleader answers quite seriously.
Jaeyi half-turns, letting her attention land on the myriad jars and bottles that line this particular region of shelving. "Are you now," she asks rhetorically, the handkerchief held out in one hand, the other raised to tap one of the labels with the end of her index finger. Parsley-- probably not? A glance guesses the negative. "I could be kind," she begins, reaching now to close the filled jar of pepper before the smell of it leads to more sneezes, "and offer to help. Or I could be bored enough to want to be entertained. Hmmmmn." Like she's really gotta think this one through, distracting herself briefly with the next jar in line.
The handkerchief is taken back, folded up neatly and pocketed. "I have it written down, if you need entertaining," T'rev says in rather the engaging voice and digs around in his pocket, produces a small folded square of paper. "And nope, no parsley on this here list," the Weyrleader claims, eyes twinkling all the more merrily at the baker.
"I meant bored enough to watch you do this yourself." Not that her work at the moment is particularly engaging, but Jaeyi gestures to the half-dozen smaller jars she has yet to fill, all lined up empty or very near it. See? Her own chores await. She reaches to the folded paper, though, though the aim of her fingers may just be bad enough to do a lot more brushing-with-his than is strictly necessary. "Shouldn't the Weyrleader have more to keep him occupied than making klah?" Yes, that "more to keep him occupied" sure doesn't sound like /business/.
Fingers. Lingering. Two can play that game. "Happy t'oblige," T'rev quips and pushes off of that support and eyeballs the spice jars. "Nutmeg's one," he notes and fishes in his other pocket for a somewhat dilapidated looking jar of his own. It's not large, but then it's probably not an industrial strength batch he's looking to mix. "Probably, should ... yeah," is the amused response and the look that accompanies it doesn't mean 'business' either.
Jaeyi and the list retreat a little, to give T'rev his space. Or maybe so she doesn't jump on top of him. It works out about the same. Leaning on one of the cross-beams of the shelves, her shoulder resting there, the recipe unfolded and eyed occasionally-- though, really, she's not nearly as interested in it as certain bits of eye-candy. "My word, they don't mess around when they go for spicy, do they," she remarks absently. Then, "I know some things you should be doing!" Beat. "No, wait. Could be isn't should be, is it?" Hum, sad.
"Nope, they don't," T'rev says about the mixture's spiciness while he pulls out the nutmeg. His eyes slide on over to Jaeyi as she leans so and he takes a deep breath. "Next seven?" is murmured softly, an offer, definitely very very quiet. He fumbles the little spoon that's tucked into a holder along the side of the nutmeg container for the purposes of transferring small quantities of dried, powdered spice. "Even Kaida agreed it had kick to it."
Briefly gratified, Jaeyi's smile is of the here-then-gone variety, just a little fleeting, gratified expression. "Next seven? Hmn, I was thinking maybe in the next ten minutes, but..." But instead she hands the recipe back to T'rev, at arm's length, and commits to commenting on that instead of the 'let's just jump each other' undertones. "I'll assume that means Kay knows from spicy? I never really got a feel for what she likes to eat, except /not/ sweets. Pity, pity."
"That'd be nice," T'rev answers, taking the recipe back and propping it up on the shelf above the one with the nutmeg, he shakes the jar a little to the side, eyeing the level of powder in it, puts a little more in, then squints at the paper for the next ingredient. "Cayenne," he murmurs aloud and nods. "Igen, yeah, she's from Igen and they've got some spicy dishes over yonder," T'rev explains. "Fresh fruit. Savories." Things Kay likes to eat.
Jaeyi finds the jar for him. See how helpful she is. Not one of the little ones she's supposed to be in the process of replenishing, mind, so she takes the extra precaution of unlidding it with the utmost precision. Casual if a little quiet; "Unfortunately, I think it might blow our cover if someone finds you fucking me against a spice rack." For all the way she looks ceilingward and entertains thet hought seems to think it could be worth it! No. No, it wouldn't, quick shaking her head there. "I gave her some trail mix for Turnover. But I'll keep that in mind for next year."
"Might just," T'rev answers and while she's opening up that jar, his hand lifts to brush back a dark strand of hair. He reaches next, to scoop out a small quantity of cayenne, arm sliding along hers in the process. "She asked me about running the trails outside the Weyr, so that's a pretty decent guess," he notes for Kaida's likes and dislikes. "She liked the klah, the spiced klah, the other day, could maybe make cookies with it? Not too sweet?"
A puff of breath chases the brushed curl, blows it unnecessarily back that much farther, though that puff turns pretty quickly into a longer exhale, an intentionally dramatic shiver at the simple arm-to-arm business. For all that, Jaeyi does a good job sounding chatty, so anyone happening along probably wouldn't think twice. Or three times-- most people would think twice, to be fair. "As if I have time to just sit around making cookies, pft." She has to stop, to give her currently idle business an ironic look. Anyway; "Though it does sound kinda good."
"No time, hm" T'rev draws his arm back, making sure that touch continues until he's tipping the contents of the scoop into his jar. A quick look over at the list and then he leans down, to murmur near her ear: "Cinnamon ... lots of it." How did he manage to make that sound so very seductive and naughty?
So it's cinnamon next, exchanged for cayenne, and Jaeyi's ear tipped for a murmur that draws her lashes down in a delighted little flutter. The, "Behave yourself," that follows is so far from a rebuke that there's really no purpose in her saying it except to put the bedroomy whisper to some sort of use. She leans the next jar into the center of his chest, with the lid still on this time, thankfully, and adds a helpful, "Take this." Her. Same thing.
Brown eyes steady on hers, T'rev only smiles, though there's something a little darker than behaving in his eyes gaze. The press of the jar into his chest causes a quick exhale. That's it. It's the jar. Still one of his hands lifts, arm crossing over hers to pry the lid free. Set down on the shelf, the smaller jar is traded hands so he can scoop out again. "Thank you," the Weyrleader says aloud, but he might as well be saying, 'take me'.
Why, yes! That would be a little extra color in Jaeyi's cheeks. Not the blushing kind, more the kind that accompanies shorter breaths. Which normally accompanies far fewer clothes. "Next?" she offers helpfully, reaches up her index finger to try and turn down the edge of the list to where she can see the writing on it. And if her finger happens to get stuck on the way down, to hang on the gap between buttons, well. Probably it's just an accident.
Finger to buttons. Brown eyes close and T'rev just breathes for a moment, then clears his throat. "I think ginger. Was it ginger?" No focus there, none at all. He opens his eyes again and sets the little jar down, picks up the lid to put it back on the cinnamon. Stay on target, Weyrleader. There's klah to make here. But whoops, that spoon he was using shakes some clinging grains of ground of dark powder onto Jaeyi's wrist. A warm thumb moves to brush that away in the juggle of jars here and there.
Jaeyi's empty hand does not go looking for nutmeg, but maybe that's no surprise. Instead, her very warm palm closes briefly over that thumb, presses it just a little into her arm, reminiscent of considerably more desperate pressures of fingertips to flesh. "You probably better check," she recommends, releases the hold on his thumb and draws her wrist away, drops the caught button. The pretense of reaching for finger includes stopping to take a quick smell of her cinnamony wrist-- not bad-- then to hold it up toward T'rev's nose in turn. The fruits of his labors?
The little spoon is slipped back into its holder and T'rev reaches one-handed for the recipe, his own cheeks starting to take on a ruddier than usual hue under olive. The lift of her wrist sees another sharply in-drawn breath and lips pressed right where it's most sensitive, right where it counts the most on Jaeyi, as T'rev /has/ to know. "Ginger and ground Bollian pepper are the last two," he murmurs against her skin, eyes closed now.
There's a stuttered breath in return, empty hand finding purchase in a finger-grip at T'rev's shirt, just below his shoulders. "Ginger and something something," she echoes, not even pretending those words penetrated. --Penetrated, hee. "Again," is not often a request issued fully dressed, but it certainly accompanies the same purring voice, the same dark-eyed delight with T'rev's, uhmn, talents.
"Ginger and Bollian pepper," T'rev makes sure to drawl those words out loooong as he interprets that request literally. She's rewarded with another kiss though, in just a few moment's time. Breath out and then he straightens, gently reaches to loosen her hand from his shirt front. "Where's the ginger, Jae?" He tries to make that sound casual as he reaches for his recipe paper again, then fishes in his pocket for a little stub of pencil he keeps in there for emergency notes. When he hands her the paper, there's words to read, scrawled under '1 teaspoon of ginger' and '1.5 teaspoons of crushed Bollian pepperflakes'. Short directions: "second door, third corridor, 10 minutes".
Jaeyi pulls more than she oughta, though it has the added benefit of helping tug some of the creases out of his shirt from the knotted fingers. "On the shelf, sir," she answers smartly, one hand to collect the paper, the other to indicate all the jars. Labeled, yes, but it's a lot to sort through. And maybe it's the short directions that incite charity, that have her actually getting the ginger for him, and the paper, and scooting them to the edge of the shelf, sir. "I trust you can handle things from here?" Not that there's anyone around, but casual casual casual. "I'm feeling a little hungry, all of the sudden. Must be all the lovely stuff around here to eat."
"Right here on the shelf, yes, I see it. Thank you very much." Beat. "Apprentice." Poker-voice! And T'rev, he turns assiduously to the task of getting the rest of the ingredients all mixed up. "I'll be fine, yes. Hungry? Yeah, that calls for a snack I'd say, for sure. See you, Jaeyi." Airy, light, bright. Mix, mix, mix. Shake up that jar. Loiter and linger tidying things up a little. Has it been long enough yet?
"Just a little snack." Jaeyi holds her fingers apart a smidge, looks at them, grows them wider, a little more, her other hand brackets so her two index fingers measure the 'average' 5-7" from one another. Humming cheerfully, turning on her heel, she does the hip-swishy bouncy departure that usually gets a good gawk in the living cavern. All that careful planning a week ago and now it's a broom closet again? Really?
T'rev returns that gesture with a finger-pinching of air, grinning lopsidedly at her. Just a little. A little. More tidying and then he slips away, heading for that corridor, that door ... not a broom closet. Just a mostly empty room. Cot. Table. Chair. That's it. And a door that locks. And it's so very, very, very risky, which could be in the end, why T'rev is late. Or it could have to do with the wingrider who cornered him in the busier part of the corridor and kept him talking for a good five minutes. Will she still be there?
Yes. Though probably only because it's time enough to take off all her clothes before she starts pacing. She should probably have thought to lock the door, and maybe that's what Jaeyi's on her way to do when the handle jiggles, and she flies right on back to that cot, sprawls out on one side with her head propped on her hand in a total supa-lover pose. The brief twitch of brows would be the thought that, if that's not T'rev walking through the door, this could be about the awkwardest moment /ever/.
-- Required moment of humor --
It's not T'rev! It's some hoary older resident looking to use that cot for an illicit nap! OMG! Awkward!
Beggars can't be choosers. Howdy, stud~!
Lucky guy!
More seriously, T'rev slips inside, looking contrite though that lasts all of about two seconds as he gets an eyeful. The door is pulled firmly shut and locked tight, double-checked before he heads on over to full advantage while he can. It's not hours and hours or lounging around after, but it's something?
IC Date: 5/20/20 --Log, including the bit about the humor, taken from T'rev. :)
There's no real reason to be in here on a day like today, so pretty much no one is! Except those people who have legitimate reasons, like Jaeyi. She's off in those kitcheny realms, ones that house things like spices and flour and all the dry goods that get transferred from great big containers into smaller containers, neatly stored in cupboards upstairs. And, for all it's not particularly exciting, that's her occupation this morning: spice jars, all lined up on the edge of a shelf, all labeled and waiting, while she opens larger containers to funnel cinnamon or garlic powder or whatever. The sneeze, the way she waves her hand in front of her face, is probably indicative of a more potent spice-- pepper or the like.
"What is that? Some kinda pepper?" A familiar voice, very familiar voice what with the drawl and all. T'rev rounds the corner, waving a hand in front of his face and holds his hanky out to Jaeyi, eyes twinkling just a little bit. "Careful you don't sneeze your head off, it's too pretty to go rollin' around in here." What /he/ might be doing down here, is not readily obvious.
Wiping her nose with her hand probably wouldn't have been a very good idea, considering her occupation, so Jaeyi takes the handkerchief immediately, before she really even acknowledges its source. The cloud that puffs around her, the smell of it answers for the fact that, yes, it's pepper, so she leaves it unsaid. Instead, after a quick pass of hanky over nose, she settles her attention on the bronzerider in the more customary manner, dark and happy and still quite thrilled at the look of him. "Aw, ain't you just full of flatter. You're busy or you came to save me from losing my head?" Roundabout 'why are you here?'
"I try," T'rev drawls out with a warm smile and fetches one shoulder up against a shelf support, eyes conveying about the same sentiment as Jaeyi's though he doesn't voice any of it, no matter how deserted this particular stores room is. "I have the recipe for Terriv spiced klah and I'm bein' an idiot and lookin' for all the ingredients myself instead of asking very well-qualified bakers such as yourself to do it for me," the Weyrleader answers quite seriously.
Jaeyi half-turns, letting her attention land on the myriad jars and bottles that line this particular region of shelving. "Are you now," she asks rhetorically, the handkerchief held out in one hand, the other raised to tap one of the labels with the end of her index finger. Parsley-- probably not? A glance guesses the negative. "I could be kind," she begins, reaching now to close the filled jar of pepper before the smell of it leads to more sneezes, "and offer to help. Or I could be bored enough to want to be entertained. Hmmmmn." Like she's really gotta think this one through, distracting herself briefly with the next jar in line.
The handkerchief is taken back, folded up neatly and pocketed. "I have it written down, if you need entertaining," T'rev says in rather the engaging voice and digs around in his pocket, produces a small folded square of paper. "And nope, no parsley on this here list," the Weyrleader claims, eyes twinkling all the more merrily at the baker.
"I meant bored enough to watch you do this yourself." Not that her work at the moment is particularly engaging, but Jaeyi gestures to the half-dozen smaller jars she has yet to fill, all lined up empty or very near it. See? Her own chores await. She reaches to the folded paper, though, though the aim of her fingers may just be bad enough to do a lot more brushing-with-his than is strictly necessary. "Shouldn't the Weyrleader have more to keep him occupied than making klah?" Yes, that "more to keep him occupied" sure doesn't sound like /business/.
Fingers. Lingering. Two can play that game. "Happy t'oblige," T'rev quips and pushes off of that support and eyeballs the spice jars. "Nutmeg's one," he notes and fishes in his other pocket for a somewhat dilapidated looking jar of his own. It's not large, but then it's probably not an industrial strength batch he's looking to mix. "Probably, should ... yeah," is the amused response and the look that accompanies it doesn't mean 'business' either.
Jaeyi and the list retreat a little, to give T'rev his space. Or maybe so she doesn't jump on top of him. It works out about the same. Leaning on one of the cross-beams of the shelves, her shoulder resting there, the recipe unfolded and eyed occasionally-- though, really, she's not nearly as interested in it as certain bits of eye-candy. "My word, they don't mess around when they go for spicy, do they," she remarks absently. Then, "I know some things you should be doing!" Beat. "No, wait. Could be isn't should be, is it?" Hum, sad.
"Nope, they don't," T'rev says about the mixture's spiciness while he pulls out the nutmeg. His eyes slide on over to Jaeyi as she leans so and he takes a deep breath. "Next seven?" is murmured softly, an offer, definitely very very quiet. He fumbles the little spoon that's tucked into a holder along the side of the nutmeg container for the purposes of transferring small quantities of dried, powdered spice. "Even Kaida agreed it had kick to it."
Briefly gratified, Jaeyi's smile is of the here-then-gone variety, just a little fleeting, gratified expression. "Next seven? Hmn, I was thinking maybe in the next ten minutes, but..." But instead she hands the recipe back to T'rev, at arm's length, and commits to commenting on that instead of the 'let's just jump each other' undertones. "I'll assume that means Kay knows from spicy? I never really got a feel for what she likes to eat, except /not/ sweets. Pity, pity."
"That'd be nice," T'rev answers, taking the recipe back and propping it up on the shelf above the one with the nutmeg, he shakes the jar a little to the side, eyeing the level of powder in it, puts a little more in, then squints at the paper for the next ingredient. "Cayenne," he murmurs aloud and nods. "Igen, yeah, she's from Igen and they've got some spicy dishes over yonder," T'rev explains. "Fresh fruit. Savories." Things Kay likes to eat.
Jaeyi finds the jar for him. See how helpful she is. Not one of the little ones she's supposed to be in the process of replenishing, mind, so she takes the extra precaution of unlidding it with the utmost precision. Casual if a little quiet; "Unfortunately, I think it might blow our cover if someone finds you fucking me against a spice rack." For all the way she looks ceilingward and entertains thet hought seems to think it could be worth it! No. No, it wouldn't, quick shaking her head there. "I gave her some trail mix for Turnover. But I'll keep that in mind for next year."
"Might just," T'rev answers and while she's opening up that jar, his hand lifts to brush back a dark strand of hair. He reaches next, to scoop out a small quantity of cayenne, arm sliding along hers in the process. "She asked me about running the trails outside the Weyr, so that's a pretty decent guess," he notes for Kaida's likes and dislikes. "She liked the klah, the spiced klah, the other day, could maybe make cookies with it? Not too sweet?"
A puff of breath chases the brushed curl, blows it unnecessarily back that much farther, though that puff turns pretty quickly into a longer exhale, an intentionally dramatic shiver at the simple arm-to-arm business. For all that, Jaeyi does a good job sounding chatty, so anyone happening along probably wouldn't think twice. Or three times-- most people would think twice, to be fair. "As if I have time to just sit around making cookies, pft." She has to stop, to give her currently idle business an ironic look. Anyway; "Though it does sound kinda good."
"No time, hm" T'rev draws his arm back, making sure that touch continues until he's tipping the contents of the scoop into his jar. A quick look over at the list and then he leans down, to murmur near her ear: "Cinnamon ... lots of it." How did he manage to make that sound so very seductive and naughty?
So it's cinnamon next, exchanged for cayenne, and Jaeyi's ear tipped for a murmur that draws her lashes down in a delighted little flutter. The, "Behave yourself," that follows is so far from a rebuke that there's really no purpose in her saying it except to put the bedroomy whisper to some sort of use. She leans the next jar into the center of his chest, with the lid still on this time, thankfully, and adds a helpful, "Take this." Her. Same thing.
Brown eyes steady on hers, T'rev only smiles, though there's something a little darker than behaving in his eyes gaze. The press of the jar into his chest causes a quick exhale. That's it. It's the jar. Still one of his hands lifts, arm crossing over hers to pry the lid free. Set down on the shelf, the smaller jar is traded hands so he can scoop out again. "Thank you," the Weyrleader says aloud, but he might as well be saying, 'take me'.
Why, yes! That would be a little extra color in Jaeyi's cheeks. Not the blushing kind, more the kind that accompanies shorter breaths. Which normally accompanies far fewer clothes. "Next?" she offers helpfully, reaches up her index finger to try and turn down the edge of the list to where she can see the writing on it. And if her finger happens to get stuck on the way down, to hang on the gap between buttons, well. Probably it's just an accident.
Finger to buttons. Brown eyes close and T'rev just breathes for a moment, then clears his throat. "I think ginger. Was it ginger?" No focus there, none at all. He opens his eyes again and sets the little jar down, picks up the lid to put it back on the cinnamon. Stay on target, Weyrleader. There's klah to make here. But whoops, that spoon he was using shakes some clinging grains of ground of dark powder onto Jaeyi's wrist. A warm thumb moves to brush that away in the juggle of jars here and there.
Jaeyi's empty hand does not go looking for nutmeg, but maybe that's no surprise. Instead, her very warm palm closes briefly over that thumb, presses it just a little into her arm, reminiscent of considerably more desperate pressures of fingertips to flesh. "You probably better check," she recommends, releases the hold on his thumb and draws her wrist away, drops the caught button. The pretense of reaching for finger includes stopping to take a quick smell of her cinnamony wrist-- not bad-- then to hold it up toward T'rev's nose in turn. The fruits of his labors?
The little spoon is slipped back into its holder and T'rev reaches one-handed for the recipe, his own cheeks starting to take on a ruddier than usual hue under olive. The lift of her wrist sees another sharply in-drawn breath and lips pressed right where it's most sensitive, right where it counts the most on Jaeyi, as T'rev /has/ to know. "Ginger and ground Bollian pepper are the last two," he murmurs against her skin, eyes closed now.
There's a stuttered breath in return, empty hand finding purchase in a finger-grip at T'rev's shirt, just below his shoulders. "Ginger and something something," she echoes, not even pretending those words penetrated. --Penetrated, hee. "Again," is not often a request issued fully dressed, but it certainly accompanies the same purring voice, the same dark-eyed delight with T'rev's, uhmn, talents.
"Ginger and Bollian pepper," T'rev makes sure to drawl those words out loooong as he interprets that request literally. She's rewarded with another kiss though, in just a few moment's time. Breath out and then he straightens, gently reaches to loosen her hand from his shirt front. "Where's the ginger, Jae?" He tries to make that sound casual as he reaches for his recipe paper again, then fishes in his pocket for a little stub of pencil he keeps in there for emergency notes. When he hands her the paper, there's words to read, scrawled under '1 teaspoon of ginger' and '1.5 teaspoons of crushed Bollian pepperflakes'. Short directions: "second door, third corridor, 10 minutes".
Jaeyi pulls more than she oughta, though it has the added benefit of helping tug some of the creases out of his shirt from the knotted fingers. "On the shelf, sir," she answers smartly, one hand to collect the paper, the other to indicate all the jars. Labeled, yes, but it's a lot to sort through. And maybe it's the short directions that incite charity, that have her actually getting the ginger for him, and the paper, and scooting them to the edge of the shelf, sir. "I trust you can handle things from here?" Not that there's anyone around, but casual casual casual. "I'm feeling a little hungry, all of the sudden. Must be all the lovely stuff around here to eat."
"Right here on the shelf, yes, I see it. Thank you very much." Beat. "Apprentice." Poker-voice! And T'rev, he turns assiduously to the task of getting the rest of the ingredients all mixed up. "I'll be fine, yes. Hungry? Yeah, that calls for a snack I'd say, for sure. See you, Jaeyi." Airy, light, bright. Mix, mix, mix. Shake up that jar. Loiter and linger tidying things up a little. Has it been long enough yet?
"Just a little snack." Jaeyi holds her fingers apart a smidge, looks at them, grows them wider, a little more, her other hand brackets so her two index fingers measure the 'average' 5-7" from one another. Humming cheerfully, turning on her heel, she does the hip-swishy bouncy departure that usually gets a good gawk in the living cavern. All that careful planning a week ago and now it's a broom closet again? Really?
T'rev returns that gesture with a finger-pinching of air, grinning lopsidedly at her. Just a little. A little. More tidying and then he slips away, heading for that corridor, that door ... not a broom closet. Just a mostly empty room. Cot. Table. Chair. That's it. And a door that locks. And it's so very, very, very risky, which could be in the end, why T'rev is late. Or it could have to do with the wingrider who cornered him in the busier part of the corridor and kept him talking for a good five minutes. Will she still be there?
Yes. Though probably only because it's time enough to take off all her clothes before she starts pacing. She should probably have thought to lock the door, and maybe that's what Jaeyi's on her way to do when the handle jiggles, and she flies right on back to that cot, sprawls out on one side with her head propped on her hand in a total supa-lover pose. The brief twitch of brows would be the thought that, if that's not T'rev walking through the door, this could be about the awkwardest moment /ever/.
-- Required moment of humor --
It's not T'rev! It's some hoary older resident looking to use that cot for an illicit nap! OMG! Awkward!
Beggars can't be choosers. Howdy, stud~!
Lucky guy!
More seriously, T'rev slips inside, looking contrite though that lasts all of about two seconds as he gets an eyeful. The door is pulled firmly shut and locked tight, double-checked before he heads on over to full advantage while he can. It's not hours and hours or lounging around after, but it's something?