Sleep: Marquis/Richard
The Marquis could sleep anywhere.
Richard hated that about him. It was frustrating. Perched as they were now, on a ledge perhaps three feet wide, Richard desperately struggling to keep his balance on the slimy surface. And the Marquis was bloody asleep. He glared at the man, annoyed that he could sleep, annoyed that he could look so comfortable, annoyed that he could look so bloody appealing.
And then his lips curled into a grin, and he hooked one hand behind Richard's neck, and pulled him off balance.
The Marquis could sleep anywhere.
Of course, sometimes he chose not to.
Richard hated that about him. It was frustrating. Perched as they were now, on a ledge perhaps three feet wide, Richard desperately struggling to keep his balance on the slimy surface. And the Marquis was bloody asleep. He glared at the man, annoyed that he could sleep, annoyed that he could look so comfortable, annoyed that he could look so bloody appealing.
And then his lips curled into a grin, and he hooked one hand behind Richard's neck, and pulled him off balance.
The Marquis could sleep anywhere.
Of course, sometimes he chose not to.