(Untitled)

[singintheoven]

Her room is cluttered, as usual. A row of empty bottles--some wine, some whiskey--is lined up neatly against the wall, and a few more are on the coffee table, amid a pile of shoes.

She opens the door and gestures grandly. "Here we are. Make yourself comfortable."

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[derewigejude]

Isaac looks around, blinks once.

Comfortable.

That is another thing he forgot.

[derewigejude]

A bath.

He knows of those things, but...

Still the fact: Isaac has not even sat down or leaned against anything since cursed. He is conditioned to standing, and not stopping for long, so... how Hedwig plans to get him into a real bath.

For the first time in long centuries, the immortal seems truly lost.

[singintheoven]

"Don't like water?" she asks, turning the lights off and climbing into the tub. "It's the perfect temperature. Just a bubble bath, nothing dangerous."

[derewigejude]

Isaac closes eyes. He can not explain, and follows Hedwig, simply.

Challenging his curse is dangerous.

Of go his boxers, and he jois the woman in the bath, letting out a low sigh.

It could be much worse, after all.

[singintheoven]

The water is comfortable, and she is warm, and not at all shy.

And she likes closeness, especially when she has been drinking the way she has tonight. Especially for holidays. She doesn't want to be alone.

It may not be a formal curse, but loneliness is bad enough.

[derewigejude]

She does not know.

She does not need to know.

And Isaac can stand it, so he does, holding the woman close; in the end there is a small positive balance of comfort, and that is good.

Just hold her, and neither be alone.

[singintheoven]

It makes everything better.

First, relaxing--letting the tension and worries drain away. And then, letting new tensions--temporary ones, much more easily released--take their place.

An almost perfect evening.

[derewigejude]

As long as she does not mind the fact that he will not sleep later.

Isaac will learn her lessons well. Practice them with boundless energy.

And later, hold the exhausted woman close while she sleeps.

[singintheoven]

She is an enthusiastic teacher. If there's one thing she knows how to do, it's perform--whether music, or more private matters. Just a combination of passion and energy.

And she always sleeps more soundly when she isn't alone.

[derewigejude]

Well, morning will find Isaac standing, gazing out the window.

Wearing only his boxers. No reason to get dressed more than that.

[singintheoven]

She's not a morning person, but eventually she rolls over, notices the lack of him in the bed, and half sits up, glancing around.

"There you are," she says quietly. "I hope I didn't wake you up, or kick you in my sleep or anything."

[derewigejude]

Isaac turns to look at her, shaking head. "No. I don't sleep."

Not in the past two millenia.

[singintheoven]

"Do you miss it?" she asks, sitting up, adjusting the pillows, leaning back on them. "Sleeping, I mean. That's eight hours more a day for you to... feel cursed, I guess."

[derewigejude]

"I don't know, not anymore. I forgot what sleep and rest feel like."

Isaac looks out of the window again. "I just know it would be a change."

[singintheoven]

"Do you just not need to sleep, or can't you, even if you try?" she asks. "I can't imagine being awake all the time, forever. Even without needing to sleep, it'd screw up your sense of time, I'd think."

[derewigejude]

"I don't think it makes a difference anymore, not needing or not being able to." Isaac shakes head. "I lost count of time long ago. One day follows the other, and most of the time it is just a repetition of things I saw before a thousand times."