(Untitled)

[giftedthom]

Thom lies sprawled on the floor of his room, one arm flung carelessly over his face. His other hand is wrapped around a bottle of something rather stronger than wine.

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[eldorne_girl]

[there is a knock on the door]

[giftedthom]

He doesn't get up. The door swings open anyway.

[eldorne_girl]

[And Delia slips in. It's summer, and yet she's pale and shivering, her left hand curled up and cradled close to her chest.]

Hey, Thom.

[giftedthom]

By way of greeting, "Delia."

[eldorne_girl]

[she glances around the room, and then focuses on him with something that looks like effort]

[she walks in, and falls to her knees (the grace needs a full-and-petticoated skirt instead of jeans, but that's Milliways for you)]

[and she doesn't say anything, just kneels and watches him and holds her hand close as she shivers with an inner cold]

[giftedthom]

Without looking up, Thom says, "It's fucking hot out, you know."

It's true. His collar is open and everything.

[eldorne_girl]

It's fucking freezing.

[she's wearing a jumper. And boots. And still looks pale and cold]

[giftedthom]

"How d'you figure."

[eldorne_girl]

I'm cold. And it won't stop.

[giftedthom]

"Since when."

[eldorne_girl]

Um. Just yesterday, badly. But before that...been getting colder for a month or so. Since my scar started hurting.

[giftedthom]

Thom lets go of the bottle and reaches out to her, hand open.

"C'mere."

[eldorne_girl]

[a faint smile, and she crawls over. But when she holds out her hand, it's shaking.]

[giftedthom]

He grabs her hand -- his eyes flutter open, startled --

"Cold, Dell!"

-- and pulls her down.

[eldorne_girl]

That's what I was sayi-shit!

[she yelps when he pulls her over, over onto him]

[isn't he lucky that the jumper is covering most of her skin]

[giftedthom]

"What's it from?"

He sounds half-interested. Like his mind's on something else.