LOG; when the morning light sings; REGGIE + CHARLOTTE
who; Reggie and Charlotte
what; 300km/hr
when; Yesterdayish? Sometime last week. XD
Two pills, one teaspon of thick syrup, and two hours after the light had been switched off, Reggie turned over for the sixty-first time. To keep his achingly alert mind occupied, he imagined his eyes, open as they were, glowing like beacons in the dark. But if they were glowing, maybe they had lasers, like that comic book guy, so he shouldn't be looking at Char's ear - and for the sixty-second time, Reggie flipped, from right side to left, disturbing covers.
In the dark, one of her posters looked like a bogeyman. Eye lasers focusing ... !
Charlotte was tired, but not so tired that she could fall into a deep sleep with Reggie rustling about. It had been about two in the morning when they decided they should try to get some sleep, but after saying their good-night's (no I love you's yet), neither found that rest was coming very easily.
For Reggie it was because he had those powers; for Charlotte it was because she had that boyfriend. She scooted closer to said boyfriend and slid one arm around his waist, pressing herself to his back and burying her face into his shirt.
"You can't sleep like this, can you."
Some small part of Reggie twinged as his girl moved into him, twinged to think that he had kept her up for all this time. The rest of him felt a mixture of contentment, and somewhat childish enthusiasm (well, if she's already awake..).
"Nngh," he retorted in all coherency, dropping his arm briefly over hers. Before abruptly sitting up.
"Sorry," the sheepish laugh shaking in his voice as he ruffled a hand through his hair. Hopefully she wouldn't start hinting at his sleeping at his own place from now on. "S'not usually quite this bad."
"It's alright," she answered, stifling a yawn and sitting up as well. "Well, it's pointless to lie in bed if neither of us are going to fall asleep.." She would if it weren't for him, but she wasn't about to mention that.
"Do you want to do something else?" She switched on the bedside lamp, rubbing at her eyes.
Having been so long adjusted to the dark, the sudden explosion of light briefly blinded him. Squinting, he took a minute to pick out the time on her bedside clock. Near four in the morning. Reggie glanced at Char, trying to gauge how tired she was.
"Reckon I need to work it off," he mused. "But, it's bare fine, Char, go back to bed, I'll figure it out."
"It's fine." She slipped out of bed and walked towards her closet, pulling out a comfortable, light jacket to wear over her camisole. "I'll come with you?"
"Like that?" He asked, a bit stupidly, because her camisole had provided a nice distraction until her jacket got in the way. "Er- sure you're up for it?"
As if it wasn't four, Reggie sprang from the bed, near bounding to his bag to pick out his fairly new and yet terribly beat looking shoes. "Least the weather's nang!"
"It should be fine, right? I'll just change into a different pair of shorts." She zipped up her jacket and pocketed her cell phone and keys, taking out a pair of neatly folded shorts from her dresser. In a few minutes both of them were out the door, Charlotte shivering a little from the cold.
Reggie stomped his feet against the pavement, peering up at a street lamp while gasping out a hearty breath of air. "Right," he said, quickly, "get the blood flowing, stretch a bit," followed by movements far too swift to be anything useful, fingers on his toes and arms bending--
"And go!" Off he went, struggling to maintain a reasonable, normal pace despite all the energy waiting active and bursting in his muscle.
A reasonable pace for Reggie might as well have been sprinting for Charlotte; she wasn't out of shape but there was no way she could keep up at that pace for long. For a few minutes she was able to keep up with him, but after that she was falling behind, in spite of her best efforts.
The distance between them was growing and with a burst of speed Charlotte raced forward to reach for Reggie's hand and hold it in her own, obviously slowing him down but at this rate he'd leave her behind.
A reasonable pace felt, in truth, akin to a brisk walk. It wouldn't have done much to alleviate his excess of energy in the long run, but had helped to calm jittery nerves, jangling thoughts. When her hand found his, Reggie didn't jump, but his brows furrowed in a brief confusion as he found his brisk walk becoming an unbearable crawl.
Clarity hit when he managed to concentrate on her face, the pink spreading over cheek and forehead.
"Bare sorry, Char," he said, holding her hand in one of his as his other plowed at his hair, and he promptly began to jump from one foot to another.
"It's alright, really."
She knew he had an unusual amount of energy but it seemed to be a lot more now than when they'd first started meeting again. Swinging his hand back and forth she pushed some hair out of her face and took a moment to catch her breath.
"I think I'm ready to start again," she said, doing her best to keep a note of hesitation out of her voice. Charlotte knew that she'd probably fall behind again but she didn't want to ask that they stop.
After her assertion, Reggie bobbed his head in assent, and looked down the street without beginning. Exhaling again, not in the least winded, he evaluated his dilemma. Char wanted to come, but she couldn't possibly keep up with the pace he'd need for there to be a point to this odd-hour lap.
It wouldn't exhaust him, and it wouldn't be anything like training.
At which point it hit him - training. Reggie spun toward Char in a sudden, explosive moment, both hands seizing hers. He beamed, then pivoted, crouching and gesturing wildly at his back.
"Get on!"
She looked at him uncertainly, stepping towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I won't be too heavy, will I?" But he did have more energy than most people did, and she was tired, and.. piggyback rides were something she'd loved as a child. If he got tired he could always stop, after all.
So without making him wait any longer she climbed on, wrapping her arms securely around his neck and holding on tight.
"Light as a feather, Char," he assure well before she had even climbed on. Reggie knew he ought to have been a little nervous, as he only had advanced speed and not super strength.
He stood with care, not leaping up but ascertaining his balance, the strength of her grip, and his as he took loose hold of her legs.
"Ready?" Reggie asked, and without waiting for her reply, began to run - now, at a rate that might have endangered his clothing, had her weight not provided enough of a drag.
Her breath hitched when Reggie began running, and Charlotte tightened her hold on him as she shut her eyes and buried her face into the crook of his neck. The air was cold as they sped past still-closed shops and the random pedestrian or two, but Reggie was warm and this was fun, and the spontaneity of things like this that tended to happen when he was around brought a smile to her face.
"You're not tired?" She asked, voice raised to make sure he heard.
"Hah!" Reggie laughed, meaning to continue with a boast of his inability to tire, but the force of the laugh made him catch his breath. Returning to an even one-two-three-one-two-three, he sped over another few blocks, barely feeling the difference between pavement and street. Char wasn't light, but at this speed it felt inconsequential, one more pressure, one more challenge.
"No," he eventually gasped, a barrage of neon lights and the shortened sound of probable vomit careening past like a car horn.
They really had gone quite far now, and if Reggie was too exhausted they'd have to fetch a cab back to the flat, except she didn't have any money on her at the moment (she didn't want to have to walk back too far, either). Charlotte noticed that his pace was slowing-- maybe not by a very noticeable amount, but enough for the thought that maybe they should stop to cross her mind.
"Reggie," she started, but knowing him he'd keep insisting he was fine until he collapsed or ran straight into a brick wall. She lifted her head and leaned down a little, tilting her head to kiss him on the cheek. If that wasn't enough of a distraction then she'd just pull his hair, she thought absently, but her thoughts weren't entirely lucid at this hour.
If one positive thing had resulted from Reggie's fast track through London, it was that he had developed a pretty remarkable sense of direction, and knowledge of some rather forgotten alleys and roads. He hadn't intentionally slowed in a winding, labyrinthine area, though the high speed combined with a new challenge had impacted his performance.
Having barely heard her speak his name, Reggie went on in blissful oblivion, utterly wrapped in the steady beat of his feet against the pavement, of air pulling and pushing at his lungs.
She kissed his cheek and his fingers twitched, around her ankles, and Reggie simultaneously broke into a wide, child-in-a-candy-shop grin, while blinking, and mis-stepping over a curb.
And fell into one hell-of-a-stagger.
They both tumbled down into an undignified heap on the sidewalk, Charlotte banging her head on the sidewalk, and she thought that maybe she should be getting used to head injuries by now. Her arm hurt and she would probably end up with a few good bruises later, but at the moment that wasn't important.
"Oh god, Reggie, are you alright?" She was still half on him so she quickly moved herself off, sitting up and anxiously peering down at him. "I didn't mean to distract you, I'm terribly sorry-"
Thankfully, he had staggered enough before actually properly falling, because at the speed they had been going - well, banging her head could've been terrible. Reggie, having flopped into a sort of body-slamming pancake skid, opened his eyes after a tenative, sore minute.
Lifting his head first, he dragged up a hand to rub at his scraped chin. "Oy," he exclaimed, "I haven't gotten a proper cut in years!"
"If I'd had my handbag with me I would have had an Elastoplast for it, hopefully it shouldn't scar, and.."
She bit her lip and rest one hand lightly on his shoulder, the other pulling a rumpled, but unused, napkin from her jacket's pocket to dab at the scrape.
"...We'd better get off the pavement."
A beat, more than, seconds gliding by as Reggie stopped inspecting the dim-lit red oozing from his scuffed palms, his skidded legs. Streetlights and the dull, incoming dawn cast an eerie, not unpleasant glow about Char, and his gaze shifted from her focused eyes to the set of her lips as she tended to him.
She's bare nice, he mused, and in a rare show of humility, too good for me.
He'd meant to ask if she was all right, but found his fingers sliding over her wrist, a brace as he tilted his head and leaned to kiss her, chin lifting from her touch.
The pavement was warm. "...this rate, I'll be the death of you," he murmured against her mouth, a jest with weight behind it.
It was still well before the streets of London would be busy, but Charlotte still felt a little self-conscious, kissing Reggie on.. the sidewalk. In public. Her feelings of self-consciousness, however, were only enough to bring a faint tint of pink to her cheeks, and not enough to make her pull away from him.
"It'll be fine," she returned, for once the one to assure him of something. "I'm used to danger, Bond."
Had Char expressed her concerns, Reggie would have swiftly noted that dese ends didn't get started for hours. Because she hadn't, he remained utterly oblivious, and as ever, utterly confident - at least in that. I reckon we're... a bare big combo of the worst luck.
It made him feel a little dizzy, and his chuckle was a little delayed as he moved to climb to his feet.
Shaking out of his daze (with a jerking motion somewhat canine), Reggie grinned. "Never doubted that, Dovonnica. But this sort of danger might be a bit much even for you. That next staircase might end us both."
what; 300km/hr
when; Yesterdayish? Sometime last week. XD
Two pills, one teaspon of thick syrup, and two hours after the light had been switched off, Reggie turned over for the sixty-first time. To keep his achingly alert mind occupied, he imagined his eyes, open as they were, glowing like beacons in the dark. But if they were glowing, maybe they had lasers, like that comic book guy, so he shouldn't be looking at Char's ear - and for the sixty-second time, Reggie flipped, from right side to left, disturbing covers.
In the dark, one of her posters looked like a bogeyman. Eye lasers focusing ... !
Charlotte was tired, but not so tired that she could fall into a deep sleep with Reggie rustling about. It had been about two in the morning when they decided they should try to get some sleep, but after saying their good-night's (no I love you's yet), neither found that rest was coming very easily.
For Reggie it was because he had those powers; for Charlotte it was because she had that boyfriend. She scooted closer to said boyfriend and slid one arm around his waist, pressing herself to his back and burying her face into his shirt.
"You can't sleep like this, can you."
Some small part of Reggie twinged as his girl moved into him, twinged to think that he had kept her up for all this time. The rest of him felt a mixture of contentment, and somewhat childish enthusiasm (well, if she's already awake..).
"Nngh," he retorted in all coherency, dropping his arm briefly over hers. Before abruptly sitting up.
"Sorry," the sheepish laugh shaking in his voice as he ruffled a hand through his hair. Hopefully she wouldn't start hinting at his sleeping at his own place from now on. "S'not usually quite this bad."
"It's alright," she answered, stifling a yawn and sitting up as well. "Well, it's pointless to lie in bed if neither of us are going to fall asleep.." She would if it weren't for him, but she wasn't about to mention that.
"Do you want to do something else?" She switched on the bedside lamp, rubbing at her eyes.
Having been so long adjusted to the dark, the sudden explosion of light briefly blinded him. Squinting, he took a minute to pick out the time on her bedside clock. Near four in the morning. Reggie glanced at Char, trying to gauge how tired she was.
"Reckon I need to work it off," he mused. "But, it's bare fine, Char, go back to bed, I'll figure it out."
"It's fine." She slipped out of bed and walked towards her closet, pulling out a comfortable, light jacket to wear over her camisole. "I'll come with you?"
"Like that?" He asked, a bit stupidly, because her camisole had provided a nice distraction until her jacket got in the way. "Er- sure you're up for it?"
As if it wasn't four, Reggie sprang from the bed, near bounding to his bag to pick out his fairly new and yet terribly beat looking shoes. "Least the weather's nang!"
"It should be fine, right? I'll just change into a different pair of shorts." She zipped up her jacket and pocketed her cell phone and keys, taking out a pair of neatly folded shorts from her dresser. In a few minutes both of them were out the door, Charlotte shivering a little from the cold.
Reggie stomped his feet against the pavement, peering up at a street lamp while gasping out a hearty breath of air. "Right," he said, quickly, "get the blood flowing, stretch a bit," followed by movements far too swift to be anything useful, fingers on his toes and arms bending--
"And go!" Off he went, struggling to maintain a reasonable, normal pace despite all the energy waiting active and bursting in his muscle.
A reasonable pace for Reggie might as well have been sprinting for Charlotte; she wasn't out of shape but there was no way she could keep up at that pace for long. For a few minutes she was able to keep up with him, but after that she was falling behind, in spite of her best efforts.
The distance between them was growing and with a burst of speed Charlotte raced forward to reach for Reggie's hand and hold it in her own, obviously slowing him down but at this rate he'd leave her behind.
A reasonable pace felt, in truth, akin to a brisk walk. It wouldn't have done much to alleviate his excess of energy in the long run, but had helped to calm jittery nerves, jangling thoughts. When her hand found his, Reggie didn't jump, but his brows furrowed in a brief confusion as he found his brisk walk becoming an unbearable crawl.
Clarity hit when he managed to concentrate on her face, the pink spreading over cheek and forehead.
"Bare sorry, Char," he said, holding her hand in one of his as his other plowed at his hair, and he promptly began to jump from one foot to another.
"It's alright, really."
She knew he had an unusual amount of energy but it seemed to be a lot more now than when they'd first started meeting again. Swinging his hand back and forth she pushed some hair out of her face and took a moment to catch her breath.
"I think I'm ready to start again," she said, doing her best to keep a note of hesitation out of her voice. Charlotte knew that she'd probably fall behind again but she didn't want to ask that they stop.
After her assertion, Reggie bobbed his head in assent, and looked down the street without beginning. Exhaling again, not in the least winded, he evaluated his dilemma. Char wanted to come, but she couldn't possibly keep up with the pace he'd need for there to be a point to this odd-hour lap.
It wouldn't exhaust him, and it wouldn't be anything like training.
At which point it hit him - training. Reggie spun toward Char in a sudden, explosive moment, both hands seizing hers. He beamed, then pivoted, crouching and gesturing wildly at his back.
"Get on!"
She looked at him uncertainly, stepping towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I won't be too heavy, will I?" But he did have more energy than most people did, and she was tired, and.. piggyback rides were something she'd loved as a child. If he got tired he could always stop, after all.
So without making him wait any longer she climbed on, wrapping her arms securely around his neck and holding on tight.
"Light as a feather, Char," he assure well before she had even climbed on. Reggie knew he ought to have been a little nervous, as he only had advanced speed and not super strength.
He stood with care, not leaping up but ascertaining his balance, the strength of her grip, and his as he took loose hold of her legs.
"Ready?" Reggie asked, and without waiting for her reply, began to run - now, at a rate that might have endangered his clothing, had her weight not provided enough of a drag.
Her breath hitched when Reggie began running, and Charlotte tightened her hold on him as she shut her eyes and buried her face into the crook of his neck. The air was cold as they sped past still-closed shops and the random pedestrian or two, but Reggie was warm and this was fun, and the spontaneity of things like this that tended to happen when he was around brought a smile to her face.
"You're not tired?" She asked, voice raised to make sure he heard.
"Hah!" Reggie laughed, meaning to continue with a boast of his inability to tire, but the force of the laugh made him catch his breath. Returning to an even one-two-three-one-two-three, he sped over another few blocks, barely feeling the difference between pavement and street. Char wasn't light, but at this speed it felt inconsequential, one more pressure, one more challenge.
"No," he eventually gasped, a barrage of neon lights and the shortened sound of probable vomit careening past like a car horn.
They really had gone quite far now, and if Reggie was too exhausted they'd have to fetch a cab back to the flat, except she didn't have any money on her at the moment (she didn't want to have to walk back too far, either). Charlotte noticed that his pace was slowing-- maybe not by a very noticeable amount, but enough for the thought that maybe they should stop to cross her mind.
"Reggie," she started, but knowing him he'd keep insisting he was fine until he collapsed or ran straight into a brick wall. She lifted her head and leaned down a little, tilting her head to kiss him on the cheek. If that wasn't enough of a distraction then she'd just pull his hair, she thought absently, but her thoughts weren't entirely lucid at this hour.
If one positive thing had resulted from Reggie's fast track through London, it was that he had developed a pretty remarkable sense of direction, and knowledge of some rather forgotten alleys and roads. He hadn't intentionally slowed in a winding, labyrinthine area, though the high speed combined with a new challenge had impacted his performance.
Having barely heard her speak his name, Reggie went on in blissful oblivion, utterly wrapped in the steady beat of his feet against the pavement, of air pulling and pushing at his lungs.
She kissed his cheek and his fingers twitched, around her ankles, and Reggie simultaneously broke into a wide, child-in-a-candy-shop grin, while blinking, and mis-stepping over a curb.
And fell into one hell-of-a-stagger.
They both tumbled down into an undignified heap on the sidewalk, Charlotte banging her head on the sidewalk, and she thought that maybe she should be getting used to head injuries by now. Her arm hurt and she would probably end up with a few good bruises later, but at the moment that wasn't important.
"Oh god, Reggie, are you alright?" She was still half on him so she quickly moved herself off, sitting up and anxiously peering down at him. "I didn't mean to distract you, I'm terribly sorry-"
Thankfully, he had staggered enough before actually properly falling, because at the speed they had been going - well, banging her head could've been terrible. Reggie, having flopped into a sort of body-slamming pancake skid, opened his eyes after a tenative, sore minute.
Lifting his head first, he dragged up a hand to rub at his scraped chin. "Oy," he exclaimed, "I haven't gotten a proper cut in years!"
"If I'd had my handbag with me I would have had an Elastoplast for it, hopefully it shouldn't scar, and.."
She bit her lip and rest one hand lightly on his shoulder, the other pulling a rumpled, but unused, napkin from her jacket's pocket to dab at the scrape.
"...We'd better get off the pavement."
A beat, more than, seconds gliding by as Reggie stopped inspecting the dim-lit red oozing from his scuffed palms, his skidded legs. Streetlights and the dull, incoming dawn cast an eerie, not unpleasant glow about Char, and his gaze shifted from her focused eyes to the set of her lips as she tended to him.
She's bare nice, he mused, and in a rare show of humility, too good for me.
He'd meant to ask if she was all right, but found his fingers sliding over her wrist, a brace as he tilted his head and leaned to kiss her, chin lifting from her touch.
The pavement was warm. "...this rate, I'll be the death of you," he murmured against her mouth, a jest with weight behind it.
It was still well before the streets of London would be busy, but Charlotte still felt a little self-conscious, kissing Reggie on.. the sidewalk. In public. Her feelings of self-consciousness, however, were only enough to bring a faint tint of pink to her cheeks, and not enough to make her pull away from him.
"It'll be fine," she returned, for once the one to assure him of something. "I'm used to danger, Bond."
Had Char expressed her concerns, Reggie would have swiftly noted that dese ends didn't get started for hours. Because she hadn't, he remained utterly oblivious, and as ever, utterly confident - at least in that. I reckon we're... a bare big combo of the worst luck.
It made him feel a little dizzy, and his chuckle was a little delayed as he moved to climb to his feet.
Shaking out of his daze (with a jerking motion somewhat canine), Reggie grinned. "Never doubted that, Dovonnica. But this sort of danger might be a bit much even for you. That next staircase might end us both."