morning × i lipsticked fuck you on the mirror as a mark of my respect
Early in the morning, Enfys wakes up with the sound of passing cars outside and sunlight filtering in the window; she realizes, grimacing and rolling over to hide from the light underneath Anderson's chin, that she forgot to close the curtains last night. She'd had other things on her mind, anyway, the serious (Cthulhu, work, how much class she's ( Read more... )
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Tom, helpfully, tracked Enfys here (he snagged her PINpoint for her out of the vending machine, and even if she hadn't, he'd already developed a method of following people through dimensional jumps after that one time Richard went missing), but was polite enough to not bother her while she was sleeping.
... Sleeping.
In the short time he's been here (and awake) he's discovered two things: he likes the name Thalia (be afraid) and he hates this sofa (be cautiously optimistic). He's still on said couch, holding a box of cereal that he apparently thinks he's allowed to eat from, regarding Anders with an expression that's either thoughtful or just sleepy. Who knows.
"Morning."
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Sleep, at some point, occurred. Judging by the, uh, bitemarks that Anders is sporting this morning it wasn't a top priority, but it's a safe assumption that it happened. He looks faintly amused in a resigned kind of a way, like of fucking course there's a strange man sitting on Enfys's couch the next morning, that is exactly the best way to improve this day.
"Yeah. Anderson Blakely. Coffee?" Full sentences with multiple syllable words are going to have to wait until after he's been caffeinated, though. It's at this point that Enfys emerges, pulling her tangled hair out from under the neckline of a ratty old tshirt that hits her mid-thigh.
"You are such a creep," she informs Bruce, affectionately; she makes it sound like this is a good thing, or at the very least some kind of charming personal idiosyncrasy.
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"No thanks." He's had too many narcotic painkillers this week; no more stimulants or depressants for a good while. His system gets a little twitchy otherwise. (He'd make tea, but... boiling water. He's safest with the box of cereal.)
"This couch sucks." To Enfys, apparently this counts as a hello.
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"Suit yourself." Temporarily exiting stage right in search of caffeine, Anders pauses in the doorway to raise his eyebrows at Enfys, who interprets this correctly and says, "But no sugar," before dropping down onto the sofa with Bruce.
"We're going to burn it when we get around to finding a new one," she informs him, of the aforementioned item of furniture.
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