[ One could count on one hand the number of things that could get CSA to actually get out of his warm bed, especially when already tired though unable to sleep. Such as the fact that when he turns to rest against Texas, he instead finds a cold empty space that the other typically occupied.
It's enough to get him to shiver as he sat up, tugging the blanket around himself and looking around. ]
[Securing whiskey and cigarettes is exactly where on earth Texas is. And he isn't leaving the house until he's got a bag full of bottles and cartons, so he's likely to be gone a few hours.]
[ It's not until CSA looks around the rest of the cabin that he realizes that's where Texas must have gone. So he walks into the kitchen and gets himself some water, leaning against a counter as he wondered why Texas waited until the middle of the night.
Taking a moment to check on the sleeping Cotton, he walks back to the bedroom, deciding to pass the time by not so much cleaning as just organizing the objects on the dressers or nightstand to give himself something to do. ]
[He had to wait until the middle of the night so CSA wouldn't stop him or insist on accompanying him, obviously. It's hard to sneak around with a chaperone.]
[ Or insist there's no need for Texas to go do what he's perfactly able to do himself. Soon enough he gets tired of organizing things, sighing a bit as he looks down at his knife...
He picks it up, resting his fingertips against the blade as if checking its sharpness. After all, a dull blade wouldn't be nearly as useful. ]
[ This is true, but CSA would still insist unless Texas managed to get him to give up arguing. He keeps his fingers against the edge of the blade and running along it absently, his mind apparently wandering off elsewhere. ]
[ ...don't think so. The somewhat ironic thing here is that so far only Roslyn has really managed it before. CSA doesn't seem to really realize what he's doing until he notices a fingertip has gotten scratched slightly. He pauses, looking down at the blade as if he might see which portion was that sharp. ]
[ Haha, it's only trouble when you get caught. And since Texas hasn't made it back yet, he's fairly certain there'd still be a while yet before the state returns. When he thinks he's figured out where the scratch came from, CSA gets another fingertip to press to it, testing his theory. ]
[ And CSA is of the belief Texas is still...doing something in the house. He looks at the knife and just watches it draw the blood from his finger, proving his guess had been correct. He's hesitant now, sitting down on the edge of the bed and glancing down at the marks on his thighs left from previous times he's been like this, wondering what Texas would think if he found out...maybe he could blame the Union. That would be believeable if he were to go to the house alone before Texas found out, he thinks. ]
[ Honestly, CSA feels like he doesn't even know what he's doing as he lowers the tip of the blade to his thigh, drawing a red line along one of the faint scars from before. Slowly, he adds a little more pressure as he traces the new line, biting his lip a bit when it breaks the skin and stings. Still, there was something almost...therapeutic in the action. ]
[Texas has no idea what's going on in the cabin when it finally comes into view. He naturally assumes CSA and Cotton are both sound asleep, none the wiser of him going out.]
It's enough to get him to shiver as he sat up, tugging the blanket around himself and looking around. ]
Where on earth...
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Taking a moment to check on the sleeping Cotton, he walks back to the bedroom, deciding to pass the time by not so much cleaning as just organizing the objects on the dressers or nightstand to give himself something to do. ]
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He picks it up, resting his fingertips against the blade as if checking its sharpness. After all, a dull blade wouldn't be nearly as useful. ]
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...don't go getting into trouble, CSA, Texas might come back sooner than you think.]
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