(Untitled)
Date/Time: Sunday, 12 March / 1:00AM
Location: Natalie's flat
Open To: Natalie
Currently Involving: Natalie, Jason
Warnings: Knowing them? Language, nothing else.
( Oh, Jason... )
Location: Natalie's flat
Open To: Natalie
Currently Involving: Natalie, Jason
Warnings: Knowing them? Language, nothing else.
( Oh, Jason... )
She was in bed, however, covers pulled up over her head, with all the lights off as she tried to pretend like she was sleeping. Or actually try to sleep, or whatever. The pounding on her door snapped her up, though, and for a second she wasn't sure that she wanted to answer it. No. Longer than a second. Who would be coming around so early in the morning?
She threw her covers back and rolled out of bed, heart kind of pounding as she went to the door -- but if it was something dangerous they wouldn't be knocking -- right? She opened it just barely a crack.
"...Jason?"
The door swung fully open as soon as she realized who it was. "Are you okay?"
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"Can I sleep with you?"
The question was a little rushed as he stepped into her flat and tucked his hands under his armpits. He'd kind of realized that he hadn't thrown a shirt over his head -- stupid of him, as now he was finding himself cold.
Of course, with his sleep-addled brain, he didn't hear anything wrong with the way that he'd phrased his question. Maybe the next day, when he thought about it, he would have a good laugh at how utterly idiotic it sounded.
For now? It made perfect sense. She was his best friend, after all.
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She gestured slightly towards the bedroom, looking a little bit... well, lost, because she'd not expected anything like him showing up at all, obviously. So she didn't really know what to do.
Well, first things first; he looked freezing. She went quickly into the living room, grabbing a throw off of the couch and coming back to him, throwing it over him without asking first. Yeah, he wasn't going to freeze to death in her apartment, thanks.
"Are you... I mean, do you want to talk or... anything?" If she sounded the slightest bit awkward, it certainly wasn't because she minded Jason showing up in the middle of the night -- she was just shocked by it.
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This was kind of weird, wasn't it. It was the first time that he'd just gone and shown up this early in the morning (or late at night, if that suited her better), and it wasn't as though he was looking particularly amazing.
He hadn't even burshed his hair.
"Ah, thanks," he said sheepishly, tugging the throw around himself and holding onto the ends. "I just... uhm..."
Now, did he want to say that he just hadn't been able to sleep after his nightmare? Did he really want to get into the whole not-wanting-to-close-his-eyes thing? That was one of those things that was probably best left to the unspoken. At least while the memory was still so fresh, anyway.
And saying 'had a bad dream' seemed so... childish. But he said it anyway. "I had a bad dream."
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"Okay," she said softly. "Well you don't have to... you know," she said, shrugging slightly. She certainly never liked reliving her dreams, so she wouldn't try and make him relive his.
"Well you can... I mean, make yourself at home? Do you want anything to... like, water, or anything?"
She really, really needed to not feel so suddenly awkward, because it made her feel bad. She wanted Jason to know that he could come over if he needed to, obviously, but it was just...
Well. Odd. Or something.
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But he hadn't been able to shake that feeling of dread that had come with the dream.
The reason that he'd gone to Natalie's house, rather than just sitting up in his own flat like he normally did? The dream had been about her.
And every now and again, he just couldn't shake the lingering effects of nightmares -- he'd kind of had to make sure that she was still... alive. Which seemed stupid in his head, so he wasn't about to tell her that.
"Uh, yeah... water, wait, no. I can't drink water this late at night, not after I've been asleep. It tastes nasty." He shot her a smile, hoping to ease up the obvious awkwardness. It wasn't going to work, he bet, but he could try anyway.
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And in some strange, small sort of way, she was kind of grateful that he was distracted enough that he wasn't likely to notice the way that she wasn't really mussed up from sleeping.
"Water tastes nasty?" she repeated, shaking her head at him a bit, and trying to relax, the slightest bit. "I guess you being odd shouldn't surprise me anymore..."
She trailed off, and then gestured further into her apartment again. "Well, do you just... want to go to sleep? Or stay up for a little while?" At the very least they could move into the living room and onto the couch or something. Standing around in the entrance way probably wasn't helping with the whole awkward... feel. Or whatever.
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Stepping further in and heading for the couch, he leaned against the back of it. No, he wasn't really interested in sitting on it, as he was kind of really tired. But he figured that it would only be polite to talk for a minute before he went and crashed on her bed.
After all... he'd just interrupted her sleep --
Or rather. He should have. But now that he thought about it, she didn't look too terribly asleep for it having been one in the morning.
Tilting his head, he added, "I'm sorry that I interrupted your sleep. I didn't mean to come pounding on your door this late, but... I... got worried."
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Natalie just shook her head when he started to apologize. She didn't correct him on his assumption that she'd been sleeping -- though she didn't outright lie, either. "It's not a big deal, really," she assured him.
And only then realized what he'd said last, which caused her to tilt her head at him rather curiously. "Worried...?" she repeated, obviously questioning the word choice.
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She hadn't been sleeping. So... what had she been doing? He would have asked her, but she'd asked him a question about his word choice.
Wait. No. He was going to ask her anyway, as a way to divert attention from his dream. There was no way that he was going to be discussing that with her, and if all else failed? Off to bed they would go!
Because diversion was obviously the best way to go about things.
"You weren't sleeping, eh?" Knowing that she'd probably not want to talk about it, just like he didn't want to talk about his dream, he didn't directly ask why or what she'd been doing.
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She couldn't push the issue of his wording without him pushing the issue of her not sleeping, and that was something that she definitely didn't want to talk about. Not even to figure out what he'd meant, which was kind of surprising, but not too terribly so, really.
She was quiet for a few moments, trying to figure out if there was anything else she could do with that, before she finally decided she had to just let it go. And she didn't really doubt that he'd known that's what would happen.
Which annoyed her, stupidly enough. You would think it wouldn't, considering her own habits of not wanting to talk about things and finding ways to avoid it, but it just did. Not a lot, but a little. Maybe because it meant he knew her well enough to be able to do that so easily ( ... )
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So maybe there was a way that he could get it out of her.
Following her without a word, he stopped in the doorway, realizing that he still had her sitting-room throw around his shoulders. Dropping it and draping it over her chair, he flipped the light off and headed for her bed.
Hey, she'd said that he should make himself at home, right?
Dropping down onto the side that she didn't sleep on (and yes, he knew which side she slept on, but that was only because of the whole drunken party and consequent nap-time the next day), he crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'll tell you if you tell me," he said after he'd made himself comfortable.
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Well. In theory.
She wasn't exactly comfortable; kind of tense, actually, though she knew that was stupid and was making a conscious effort not to be.
Which didn't work at all once he'd spoken. She gave a soft sigh, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. She didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to know what he was on about... but she did not, in any way, shape, or form want to get into any sort of discussion about her.
"I thought you were tired?" she questioned after a moment -- though it really wasn't about the actual question at all, but more sort of probing to figure out her chances of him letting it go.
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"I was afraid."
Okay, so perhaps he was trying to appeal to her Ravenclaw nature here, but could anyone blame him? His best friend was in some kind of discomfort, or... something along those lines, and he knew that she didn't like to talk.
So maybe they could talk without talking. That seemed to work for them in the past.
And maybe if she got curious enough about his stuff, she'd be willing to tell him something. He hoped. Maybe. 'Cause he really was tired.
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If by appealing to her Ravenclaw nature he was referring to her curiosity, it pretty much worked. It worked even if she had at least a small idea of what he was doing.
What she probably should have said would have been 'I'm sorry'. Or even possibly 'Me, too' (though she didn't know what he was afraid of).
What she said instead was "Why?" though the concern was evident in her voice when she asked.
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Too bad she didn't. He felt her shift, and he did the same, turning toward her. She was right, it just felt easier to talk if you were facing the person, whether or not you could actually see them. He was silent for a moment, contemplating whether he should say more right off the bat.
Finally, he sighed.
His tone was quiet as he spoke, a lot more serious than he normally was. It was a combination of subject matter and tiredness, he knew, but he kind of didn't like it. "Sometimes my dreams... feel real. As in... down to my bones. And..."
He trailed off, before finishing, "...this one was particularly... strong." Pausing for a second, he added, "Why weren't you sleeping?"
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