Tristran is somewhere in between sleeping and not sleeping, lying on the bed with his head propped up on a pillow.
His arm is searing with pain from the still-raw wounds, but he's aware of where he is now, and has an idea, even, of what is going on. All in all, wounds aside, he isn't doing too badly.
He spots Yvaine as she comes in and gives her a small, weak smile of greeting. Now he is awake.
Tristran simply gives her a half-tired, half-amused smile.
"I'll try," he promises her. That's about all he can do, though. If the situation were to repeat itself, he would likely have done it again. And again. And again. As he shifts a bit, searching for a more comfortable position, the pain in his shoulder makes him wince.
He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a breath. "When are these things supposed to work, exactly?"
She winces guiltily in response, shifting herself down further and pressing another kiss to his jaw, murmuring softly - yet sternly - at the place just behind his ear, "You will. Next time it's my turn."
The fingers still holding his worry absently at the scars on the back of his hand.
"I'm overdue, anyhow."
Then, quietly, "I'm sorry. I know I do not say it often, though I probably often have reason to -" she tightens her fingers possessively. "You're not allowed to die on me anyway. You promised that too."
That gets his attention. Eyes opening again, he looks at her.
"No, there won't be any heroics from you if I can help it," he says. It's the strength thing, again. He doesn't think he could possibly stay as strong as she is now, if she were to get hurt.
"Hopefully we won't ever have to go through a situation like that, anyway, as it isn't exactly fun." He laughs wryly, then squeezes her hand. "I will keep to my promise, Yvaine. I won't be dying any time soon." He shakes his head as a bout of ridiculousless comes on. "It would mean I couldn't be here with you."
Yvaine just doesn't like to panic in front of people - and he gets to count as people this time around.
And still she's shifted as close as she can manage - fingers tangled and skin touching his wherever it is possible to while remaining proper and very very careful.
"You better not," her free hand idles with his hair, soft and strangely tender - laughing quietly. "Or I will have to find some way to find you and drag you back with me."
He lets his eyes rest for the moment, focusing his contentment on the feeling of Yvaine near him, the tingling hum present, yet at the same time so normal that he barely notices it.
"The end of the world and back again," she whispers quietly while his eyes are closed - it's almost funny how the whole room is empty and it's still an easier thing for her to do then. "Promise."
She lets out a quietly mortified groan - nose buried against the side of his neck and hand snaking lower, fingers curling, holding him there.
"See the sort of ridiculous things you get out of me?"
His arm is searing with pain from the still-raw wounds, but he's aware of where he is now, and has an idea, even, of what is going on. All in all, wounds aside, he isn't doing too badly.
He spots Yvaine as she comes in and gives her a small, weak smile of greeting. Now he is awake.
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"I'll try," he promises her. That's about all he can do, though. If the situation were to repeat itself, he would likely have done it again. And again. And again. As he shifts a bit, searching for a more comfortable position, the pain in his shoulder makes him wince.
He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a breath. "When are these things supposed to work, exactly?"
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The fingers still holding his worry absently at the scars on the back of his hand.
"I'm overdue, anyhow."
Then, quietly, "I'm sorry. I know I do not say it often, though I probably often have reason to -" she tightens her fingers possessively. "You're not allowed to die on me anyway. You promised that too."
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"No, there won't be any heroics from you if I can help it," he says. It's the strength thing, again. He doesn't think he could possibly stay as strong as she is now, if she were to get hurt.
"Hopefully we won't ever have to go through a situation like that, anyway, as it isn't exactly fun." He laughs wryly, then squeezes her hand. "I will keep to my promise, Yvaine. I won't be dying any time soon." He shakes his head as a bout of ridiculousless comes on. "It would mean I couldn't be here with you."
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And still she's shifted as close as she can manage - fingers tangled and skin touching his wherever it is possible to while remaining proper and very very careful.
"You better not," her free hand idles with his hair, soft and strangely tender - laughing quietly. "Or I will have to find some way to find you and drag you back with me."
He's hers now - he doesn't get to leave.
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"I have no doubt that you will."
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She lets out a quietly mortified groan - nose buried against the side of his neck and hand snaking lower, fingers curling, holding him there.
"See the sort of ridiculous things you get out of me?"
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"It makes me feel a little less ridiculous when you do it too," he says. "And I like to hear it, too."
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Her lips curve upward against his skin, contrary to the words.
"You'll get absolutely sick of me."
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"I am more afraid that you will eventually tire of me."
You know, him being a mortal boy (with, yes, half-faerie blood, but still) and all.
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She leans back a bit, just enough to tilt her chin up and press her lips briefly to his cheek. He's a ridiculous mortal boy.
"Should take care of it," she adds, blinking up at hi. "It's going to be there for some time."
Some time, forever and a half - same deal.
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He chuckles against her touch.
"I will take very good care of it," he says. "No harm will ever come to it for as long as I exist."
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Her fingers skitter their way back up and pressing over the place where hearts should be.
"Though I am glad, nonetheless, that it will be cared for - there was much deliberation before I let it go," she replies. "I was rather fond of mine."
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"A fair trade, I think, though mine might just be a little more on the ridiculous side of things, as you'd say."
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A quiet laugh.
"I think that it fits well where it is."
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"Yes, that's true. But I am rather fond of this - the ridiculousness, and all of it - all of you."
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