all ur lite is belong to kavi

[owl_and_heart]

Kavi Chernevog, troubled Kavi Chernevog, rash Kavi Chernevog, is regretting his rash decision to frighten Pyetr Kochevikov by near-killing his English woman--when he was setting about it, when he was taking her strength from her slowly, it seemed to him a good plan, at least one that would damage Pyetr Ilitch and show him that he, Kavi Chernevog,

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[all_that_grace]

Courfeyrac is reading in his room when the lights die. He jumps, dropping the book, and fumbles after the light-switch -- he still hasn't quite figured out how they work; maybe he did something to them, maybe it's fixable --

Candles and the means to light them, if they're in the room at all, are nowhere he knows to look, and in any case he's not thinking clearly at the moment, not at all.

[le_desirous]

Oh, not again, is Sagramore's basic reaction, as he stops halfway to Courfeyrac's room to eye the fading lights, indoors and out. Wasn't it just noon? He's losing track of time.

Ah, well. It's not as if there's really anything lost by lost time. He continues on his way, and raps on Courfeyrac's door lightly. "Aimery, it's me."

[all_that_grace]

There's a stifled cry, before he even finishes the sentence. Then, after a pause, shakily, "Sir?"

[le_desirous]

"Jesu, of course. Are you all right?"

[all_that_grace]

"...Come in."

[le_desirous]

He lets himself in, and leans on the door for a moment, before crossing over to Courfeyrac. "Are you all right?" again, frowning.

[all_that_grace]

But by now it's impossible to see anything but his vague outline, and Courfeyrac still sits on the side of the bed. "I--"

[le_desirous]

"Something happened?" laying a hand on Courfeyrac's arm.

[all_that_grace]

Courfeyrac reaches up to embrace him, fumbling a little in the dark, and clings; there is no better word. "I didn't know it was so late," somewhat lamely.

[le_desirous]

"It did happen fairly quickly." He rubs Courfeyrac's shoulders slowly, with an even pressure. "Absolutely you're all right."

[all_that_grace]

"Sit with me," almost steadily.

[le_desirous]

"Of course." Settles beside him more comfortably.

[all_that_grace]

Courfeyrac buries his face in his shoulder, still rigid. "How are you?"

[le_desirous]

"Oh, very well. The picture of health. Do you want to lie down?"

[all_that_grace]

A breath. "What, already?"

[le_desirous]

"Well, only if you're amenable."