--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Peter Parkman> The first night was the worst, with the freshness of the wounds and all the moving around. Peter had a vague hope that when he woke up from the pitch blackness of sleep, the pain and the inconvenience would be gone. No such thing happened, however. On the second night he felt just as bad as he had on the first night; although his body was sound, the pain in his head was a constant torture. Due to the pressure on his brain he continued to drift in and out of lucidity. He should probably have been cranky, but instead smiled through the agony. Rather than react negatively, Peter was instead subject to deliriousness. All he knew was that he was happy when Jersey was there, and felt bereft when she was not.
The third night was only slightly better. He was constantly trying to respond to Jersey, until finally some semblance of a voice cracked through. As much as he may have felt like he wasn’t healing, the fact that he had gotten his voice back proved contrary. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the flowers that she had brought him, their colour brightening the room, which was far too white compared to the warm colours of home. The plushie was safe up on the bed with him; the dogs had been brought to the Asylum, true to the word of his sire, and if the plushie got anywhere near the ground Hunter would think that it was his.
Peter was sitting up in bed with a Styrofoam cup clutched in his hands. The man from the shop had brought it to him. Delivered, as per usual. Peter took slow gulps of the drink. When he was finished, he knew he had to throw the cup in the trash. The can was on the other side of the room. Assuming he was in full control of his bodily faculties, Peter pushed the blanket from him and slowly meandered across the room. Only when he dropped the cup into the trash, it landed on the floor instead. He still couldn’t see all that well. He mumbled incoherently to himself. He couldn’t leave the cup where it was. It would drive him insane, to leave it where it was. He balanced himself against the wall as he bent down to retrieve it, groping the ground and failing for a few seconds before finally finding it. In his triumph, he let go of the wall and lost his balance. He fell backwards and ended up sprawled on the floor – shocked at first, and then laughing in his delirium.
<Jersey> She hadn’t wanted to leave him other than to do her errands and collect the oil that she had asked Kallista if she needed, taking a shorter shift at work before returning to the Asylum. When she returned, the blonde would dote on him and then usually use his side as a prop against her back as she read one of the books on Psychology he had mentioned one of the evenings they were together. Between paragraphs, she would mutter remarks under her breath and talk to him after everything.
“You shouldn’t talk.” Jersey had said when she found herself dealing with the crack and she pressed a kiss to his lips before getting up to take the dogs out and get some fresh air for herself. While she had been human, bringing them all out two had a time had been helpful but now she was able to bring them all out at once, so long as they weren’t hyped up about something. The Asylum wasn’t home, but she had been appreciative to Keara and Enver for taking care of Peter and... in some ways, she assumed she was wary to return in the woods after seeing the damage that had been done to the man she adored.
Upon returning to the Asylum and making her way back into the treatment room, Jersey blinked a few times as she found Peter on the floor, laughing. She had seen the last bit and rather than focus on that, she lifted an eyebrow and held onto the leashes so he wouldn’t be swarmed. The dogs whined at her. “Peter, what are you doing out of bed?” She frowned, that being the only thought on her mind, “Are you alright?” followed shortly after.
<Peter Parkman> Peter's one good eye blinked up at Jersey and the swarming mass of dogs. His vision was still a little bit blurry, and from here they looked like a five-headed mass of multicoloured fur. This was something he would always do when at home - when he got home from work, or from being out somewhere, he'd throw himself on the ground to be willingly swarmed by the dogs. It was one of his favourite things. Now, he kind of wanted that again, though he didn't ask for it. Jersey asked what he was doing on the floor and he rasped enough breath into his lungs to answer her. He pointed to the offending styrofoam cup. "Missed the bin," he said, voice more of a whisper than a voice at all. As if that one statement would explain everything.
<Jersey> "Calm," She instructed softly to the dogs before letting them off their leashes and pushed the door shut behind her, listening to him quietly over the sounds of the dogs. She moved between the wriggling bodies as they swarmed Peter, kneeling down on the ground as she moved to help the man sit up and sat behind him for the animals to visit. She had been a little strict on them lately, worried they'd hurt him worse and she slipped her arms around his waist, tangling her fingers together on his stomach. "You could have waited for me to get back, handsome."
<Peter Parkman> The laughter was imminent as the dogs swarmed him; Hunter loomed over him. Jack and Ellie didn't hesitate to jump up onto his chest, though they were so small and light that they were like feathers. KD and Lady fought for possession of place as they tried to lick his face. The dogs didn't care about the garish wounds. They continued to wriggle and prance about as Jersey joined them on the floor, and Peter was happy to sit up so that he could at least try to control the dogs' excitement. As much as he didn't care about them licking his face, he wanted them to stay away from the eye - that dreaded eye, with the splintered bone beneath. "Couldn't wait," he said, shaking his head and failing to enunciate how idiotic it seemed to have to wait to throw something in the bin. So simple. "Could've happened to anyone..." he mumbled. Everyone loses their balance, right? This had nothing to do with anything. And yet he was smiling, hands flying between all his beloved pets, wanting to give them all equal amounts of attention.
<Jersey> She set her head gently on the man's shoulder and smiled a bit, chuckling before she pressed a kiss to his jaw only to get a tongue in her face and she squeezed him. It was understandable, especially with him being OCD. Her lips twitched in amusement and after a few moments, she carefully scooted out from behind him, "Need anything, my love?"
<Peter Parkman> "Put the cup in the bin?" he asked. That was the only thing that he needed right now. The one thing that had him preoccupied; the one thing that was giving him an internal twitch. It was still there, on the ground. Lying on its side, straw sticking out at an odd angle. And so close to the bin, too. Sure, Peter couldn't see too well but he could still see that cup - whether he could see it physically as a speck of dust in the corner of his eye or whether it was just the mental knowledge that it was not where it was supposed to be, it didn't matter. Although he knew he should return to the bed, he was far too happy on the floor with the dogs; his arms twisted around Hunter's neck, giving the biggest dog a welcome befitting his size.
<Jersey> She nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of his head before she moved to collect the cup and throw it away, then brought it with her to put it beside the bed. Jersey removed her shoes afterwards, collecting her pajama shorts from the bag of their things and took advantage of the fact his back was turned to change into them out of her skirt. Not that it really mattered, he'd seen and felt what there was to see. She returned back to the floor beside Peter, chuckling as KD moved to use her leg as a pillow. Her fingertips brushed through the animal's soft fur. "How's your head feeling?"
<Peter Parkman> In that moment Peter was grateful that this wasn't an actual hospital room. If he were human and injured and bed-ridden there'd be no way they'd allow all his dogs into the room with him. He supposed it didn't matter that he wasn't at home. This, too, could be home. He'd once realised that he wouldn't care too much if the cabin were to burn to the ground, so long as Jersey and the dogs were out and safe. They were what made any place home. "Like there's a knitting needle stuck through my eye," he answered almost too cheerfully. "How's your head feeling?" he asked, still delirious, unaware that there was nothing actually wrong with Jersey's head. She'd settled down beside him and he moved one leg to drape over one of hers. wriggling that little bit closer so that their shoulders touched.
<Jersey> "Mm, you sound like you need sleep." She was almost concerned about how cheerful he sounded and then tugged softly at the waistband of his bottoms to fix them. "There's nothing wrong with me, silly." She pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw before she moved her hand to his thigh and gave it a squeeze. "Mm, I wish I could numb the pain."
<Peter Parkman> There was a certain amount of boredom that came with being stuck in a bed every hour of every day. Jersey was there, yes, and with her came the happy thoughts that Peter clung to in order to distract himself from the pain. The scene that replayed itself most often was that last one, in front of the fire. But even in his delirious state he knew that he probably wouldn't be able to achieve much. Whenever he smiled, his cheek stretched painfully. There was a ringing in that one ear. He couldn't imagine what his face must look like. Although she continue to touch him with feathery lightness, and although she kissed his jaw and the top of his head, Peter avoided anything too intimate. He must look monstrous. He sighed, not really wanting to return to the bed. How much longer would this last? He shook his head. "No sleep. No," he said. He had to glance down as she fixed the waist of his pants - what was she doing down there? She shouldn't be down there. He leaned heavily against her.
<Jersey> "Alright." She didn't feel like mothering him, although she was concerned. When she was done fixing his pants, her arms went around his waist and she snuggled up to him. “I can probably get a few blankets and we can lay down here with the dogs tonight?” She offered, looking up at him as she brushed her fingers against the undamaged part of his face. While she would admit without hesitation that he didn’t look like himself, she didn’t find him hideous – just hurt. “There’s more room and they’ll likely not jump up in the middle of the night.” She had gotten stepped on the first night there.
<Peter Parkman> Peter nodded, but then appeared to change his mind. The floor was hard, even with copious blankets. The bed wasn't too far away, and he found himself reaching toward it, fingers curling around the fitted sheet attached to the mattress. He tried to pull at it. He didn't achieve very much. "Just...." he started, tugged again, and sighed in defeat. "Whole mattress?" he said. Hunter had stood and was watching Peter with his tail slowly wagging, tongue lolling from his mouth.
<Jersey> It was probably because she slept on her side and used him partially at a pillow that it wouldn't bother her about sleeping on the floor. The blonde gave a soft nod of her head, "When it's closer to sunrise." Although she knew it wasn't that far off. Squeezing his thigh lightly, she lowered her gaze from his eyes to his throat and suppressed a shudder. At least he was healing. That was important. "Peter... what happened?" She asked softly, although she had guessed he had been attacked at random. She kept replaying when she found him in her head over and over again.
<Peter Parkman> The question was an odd one to Peter's frazzled brain. He was steadfastly stuck in the here and now, having to focus on his every movement and word to appear at least a little coherent. He glanced at Jersey and then back to the mattress, his fingers still curled around the fitted sheet. He glanced sideways at Hunter, as if the dog would be able to answer for him. Peter almost imaged that the dog gave a shrug. "Uhm..." the sound came out just as a breathed hum, so sound attached. "It's... too heavy from here." he said. He assumed that's what had happened, why he couldn't shift the mattress on his own, from here.
<Jersey> "Baby," She moved her hand to rest against the small of the man's back as she offered a smile, "We'll move it in a little bit. Come sit with me?" She asked, rubbing the bare skin for a moment before she let her hand fall back into her lap. Jersey was still worried, she didn't like the idea of him overwhelming himself with anything because she knew how head injuries could be. After a few moments of reconsideration, she got up and tugged at the mattress to help him as she figured it'd at least get that out of the way.
<Peter Parkman> Peter let go of the sheet and the feather-like touch at the small of his back. There was the urge to just sink into that touch; the voice, like honey, told him to come sit by her, and he'd moved to do so - but by the time he got there, Jersey was gone. Standing, Nudging at the mattress. Peter's head spun. He was confused. He wondered whether he'd lost time somehow in the middle - whether he'd gone to sit by Jersey, had done so for a couple of hours, and now it was 'a little bit' later. What had happened in between. He scooted out of the way to give room for the mattress, idly tugging at the corner of it. In his mind, if she pushed and he pulled the thing would just land on the floor like a dead fish. He was grinning at the prospect, feeling like a child.
<Jersey> When the mattress was down, she moved to sit down in the middle and patted at the sheets beside her after reading the confusion on his face, "Sorry," She smiled, "now come sit with me?" Jersey took note of the grin and softened her features, "Now what is going on in your head?" She laughed, straightening out the blankets around her.
Delirium [Jersey]
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Delirium [Jersey]
J E R S E Y ' S
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
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Re: Delirium [Jersey]
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Peter Parkman> Peter did what he was told and crawled across the mattress to sit by Jersey. The dogs followed suit. It was a family gathering right there on the mattress. She asked what was going on in his head as he snuggled in close. He tugged at the blanket and pulled it up over their heads. "I think we should make a cubby," he said, slowly, and then hummed.
<Jersey> The blonde was confused. It was clear on her face before she wiped it away and began to brush her fingertips through his hair, "A cubby?" Jersey pressed a kiss to his temple and held him close, waiting for her answer. "Peter?"
<Peter Parkman> "Yes," he said, though ended up staring at the blankness of the sheet as he pulled it over their heads. Did he remember how to make one? He blinked. Tried. "Pegs," he said. Yes, he'd pilfered his mother's clothes pegs. "Mmm. And a fire. In the middle. Marshmallows," his eyes were gleaming, now. He was getting his memories of cubbies mixed up with those of camping, with a tent. Ellie had found her way beneath the sheets with them and was attempting to curl up in Peter's lap. He pet her, absently.
<Jersey> Jersey blinked softly as she tried to put together what he was talking about and as he mentioned fires and marshmellows, it became clear to her once more that he was still out of it and that her answers would not be coming. "Why don't we," She suggested softly as she adjusted to push him down into the bed, her hand resting on his chest, "lay down and you can tell me all about your cubbies? We can't have fires here, but we can have one when we go home when you're all nice and better."
<Peter Parkman> Somewhere, deep down, it registered with Peter that Jersey was talking to him like one might talk to a child; an unreasonable child with unreasonable ideas. He frowned his dismay. If he were more coherent, and more in charge of his body and its balance, he would just start making one. They could have fun as adults, right? That kind of fun? She nudged at him to get him to lie down, and Peter did so - though for two fleeting seconds he had 'fun' and 'adult' in his mind, and feared what Jersey might do. The kinds of things that might distract him completely from incoherence and pain - but would she? He didn't believe that she would take advantage of his condition. He relaxed, the muscles in his neck still twitching a little. "You...." he was going to ask if she'd never made a cubby before, but stopped himself. "....don't remember," he added with a sigh. Ellie readjusted so that she was curled up in between Jersey and Peter, clingy little thing that she was. His mind had already drifted on to other things.
<Jersey> She was going to behave as she had been for the duration of his injuries. The blonde frowned softly and then gave a small shake of her past, feeling embarrassed lightly as she felt the mattress dip behind her as Hunter joined them. She laid down comfortably beside him, adjusting to lay on her stomach as she looked up at him. “I don’t.” She confirmed and gave a small sigh. Once again, her accident had robbed her from something. It didn’t help that she didn’t understand what the hell he was going on about, either. A cubby and fire with marshmallows? And then it dawned on her. “Did you mean a tent?” She asked, rubbing her thumb softly against his chest.
<Peter Parkman> It seemed all the more important to Peter that they make a cubby, now. Jersey seemed sad and rightly so, that she could not remember. And Peter lamented having brought it up. Where Peter had begun to think about Ellie, and where Jack was because the two were near inseparable, and imagining that the dogs had had an argument and now one was sleeping without the other, Jersey's question brought him back around to the cubby. "Mmm," he nodded, slightly, in affirmation. And then: "Do you think Jack and Ellie are arguing? Jack! Jack?" he called, twisting his head this way and that to try and find the other dog, cringing as the healing skin at his neck stretched uncomfortably.
<Jersey> "We can make one, then, if you'd like. I didn't understand what you meant by cubby." The blonde explained and squeezed his side after her hand slid there across his bare skin. "Arguing?" Was he hearing things? Did he get bit harder than she first thought? She frowned and peered at the wound at his eye in concern. She felt her stomach churn and then looked down to Ellie as he looked around for the dog. Jersey reached up to turn his head softly back to the former position as she saw him cringe, her green eyes widening, "He's around here somewhere, be careful. Your neck is still healing." She pressed a kiss to his lips before she sat up and watched Jack come to them from underneath the bed. "See, here he is." She smiled a bit, scratching behind the dog's ears after he seemed to take possession of her lap.
<Peter Parkman> Peter sighed, having completely forgotten about the idea of making a cubby. Maybe later, he told himself. For now, he was far too concerned about the dogs and their emotional wellbeing. He curled onto his side a little bit so as to make room for Jack, should he decide to join his boon buddy. He palm flattened out against Ellie's back, scratching her there, but smiled as he watched her half crawl closer to Jack. Jack started to lick Ellie's face, even as he remained in Jersey's lap. A past time the two dogs often indulged in. "...bad things happen when people argue," he said, thinking of nothing really specific, but of past events all accumulated into one.
<Jersey> "Mm," She carefully held onto the dog as she moved to lay down, setting him down beside Ellie and adjusting to lay on her side to face them and Peter. She felt Hunter's large head prop itself up on her thigh to watch them all. When the man spoke again, she crossed one arm beneath her head and used it as a pillow. "Mm, yes and no. Sometimes bad things can lead to good things." She reached over to cup his jaw softly, "What bad thing are you thinking about, love?"
<Peter Parkman> It was true. Caroline and he had argued often, but the sex after they'd made up was amazing. To make up after an argument was like a reaffirmation of the love they'd pledged to each other to begin with. Except for that last argument - that one that led her to her to do something stupid. And Peter would not talk about it. And tried never to argue with anyone since. He recalled his own demise, which was due to an argument between other people. He recalled the fadebeast on the boat. He shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he sighed, and then smiled. Because he was here, with Jersey. And that was a good thing.
<Jersey> She studied his expression carefully after he said that it doesn't matter, leaning over the dogs before she pressed her lips gently against his for a few moments after he smiled. It was her way of trying to wash away all of the negative thoughts in his head, even if for a little while and lightly, she pulled back with a smile of her own. "I love you."
<Peter Parkman> Peter cringed when she pressed the kiss to his lips; not because it was unwelcome but because of how he must look. The gouge in his cheek was still there. Every time he pushes his tongue against it, he thought that his tongue might go straight through. He stopped doing that, giving the wound time and ability to heal. It wouldn't heal if he kept prodding at it. "...loveyoumore," he murmured, reaching for Jersey's hand so that he might be able to tuck it between his own.
<Jersey> "Mm, why did you cringe?" She asked gently before pulling back and offering a small smile, chuckling as she moved her hand to his, "Mm, nope." The blonde chimed teasingly, "I don't think that's possible."
<Peter Parkman> "Because," he said. He hadn't the mental energy to properly word the reasons why he had cringed, let alone try to remember whether he actually did. It had been a subconscious reaction. "...agree to disagree," he said, choosing instead to focus on the discussion about who loved who more.
<Jersey> Jersey considered it curiously and pressed her lips softly to his once more, "Mm, fine." She waited for Ellie and Jack to relocate before scooting closer and lightly tugged the blanket over their hips. She moved her hand to rest on his waist after, watching the man with a fond expression. "I didn't faint when I found you like that." She spoke softly, clearly still proud of herself.
<Peter Parkman> With the dogs absent and Jersey's body a slip of a thing next to his, Peter acted absent-mindedly as his hand grazed over her hip and pressed up, flat against her back. Absently, his hand had slipped beneath her shirt rather than staying on top of it. "M'glad," he mumbled. "Proud of you," he rasped with a teasing grin.
<Jersey> She smiled softly and pressed another light kiss to his lips, comfortable while she stroked over his side as she watched him. It idly crossed her mind that she didn't put on a bra that day, but the thought was pressed away as she reached up to softly run her fingertips along his jaw affectionately. "Is there anything I can do, love?" She questioned, not bothered about the gash in his cheek or his damaged eye. Her expression never changed to anything but concern or happiness.
<Peter Parkman> He shook his head even as he threw a leg over hers, hooking his knee around her knee and holding her that tiny bit closer. The notion of 'doing something' suggested that she would have to get up and leave him there on the mattress, alone. Even tangled as they were, the notion of 'doing something' was tempting, and yet also felt highly ludicrous. To negate the need for her to do anything was the best bet. "Just stay there..." he said. If he was going to be ordered to be confined to bed, then this was how he wanted to do it.
<Jersey> Because of the position she was in, Jersey found herself simply just reaching for the cord and turned it off that way before she cuddled up to Peter, her hand moving to set his back in place before hers found his chest once more. She wasn't going to be moving any time soon. "Alright." She mumbled and simply relaxed. "Hm... now that you're just a bit more lucid... tell me what made Keara roll her eyes?" She questioned, "If you can remember."
<Peter Parkman> He was a little more lucid. It was almost as if, when he tried to move too much, the activity messed with his brain. When he was still, relaxing, his brain was better able to focus on what he was doing, and what he was saying. His eyes were closed even though he was still listening, and a thoughtful frown creased his brow. "Keara rolled her eyes? When?" he asked.
<Jersey> "Mm, something you thought had her rolling her eyes the day you were attacked... dogs, fire... it was after she'd asked us if we had anything we wanted to know from you." She explained while she reached up to lightly stroke across the frown, "Mentioned me, too." She smiled at that, clearly happy she was on his mind even when he was hurting.
<Peter Parkman> "Oh, uhm..." Peter wasn't being evasive on purpose. He was trying to remember. He licked his lips and kept his eyes closed. And then, after a second or three, he chuckled. A low, vibrating sound in the base of his throat. "I wasn't entirely... with it. I don't really remember except that I was thinking happy thoughts," he said. "I think she now thinks you and I sleep together naked all the time," he added, opening his one good eye in order to try to see Jersey's reaction.
<Jersey> She chuckled and lowered her hand back to his side, watching him as he thought and then blinked at the mention of happy thoughts. "What happy thoughts?" She asked, and then her jaw fell slightly at the idea. Jersey swallowed before trying to figure out what to say. "I'd never even seen you without pants on until I had to help you out of the tub and change your clothes recently." She tugged playfully on his pants, "And you've only seen half of me by firelight."
<Peter Parkman> "I know," Peter said, closing his eyes again. His gravelly voice still had nothing in it but amusement. "Happy thoughts don't have to be memories, you know. They can be... things that I want," he mumbled with half a sigh. This time he didn't open his eyes to gauge Jersey's reaction. he kept them shut.
<Jersey> "We can, if you'd like. Preferably when you're better... and not because of the idea of your injuries, but because you're hurt and I'd rather you be able to see completely and enjoy the view." She reached up to brush her fingertips through his hair, "Tell me about what you want?"
<Peter Parkman> Peter's hand was now moving, tracing the line of Jersey's spine, up and down. It was a nervous reaction, the restless need to do something rather than nothing as he lay there in the darkness, that honeyed voice spilling into his ear. "I want..." he swallowed. There was something about their position, and about his delirium, that vanquished many of his normal inhibitions. There was no harm in telling her what he wanted. His tongue came unstuck from the roof of his mouth as he continued: "I want for you to be happy. I want to explore every inch of you...to find out how to make you happy," he said.
<Jersey> She hummed softly at the idea, at what he wanted and thought about it quietly as she lay there running her fingertips gently against his scalp, her nails making small circles while she considered it. She wanted the same for him, and rather than voice it, she stopped her humming and put her head closer to his. "We're going to have to make that a reality at some point... but... for now, I have you safe and sound right here. That makes me very happy."
<Peter Parkman> "Mmm," he hummed, relaxation stealing through all of his limbs as her fingernails traced lines along his scalp. It was a reality that he wanted, and he knew, in that moment, that sooner or later it was something that he would have the inability to stop. Yes, there were other ways they could gain and give pleasure to each other. The boundary would continue to be crossed and broadened, until there was no boundary left. And in that moment, Peter couldn't summon the energy to care. Other precautions could be taken, right? His own hand swept down over Jersey's waist before winding back up her spine, fingers curled over her shoulder as he held her as close as he could possibly bring her. He kissed her on the top of her head and sighed as he succumbed to the happiness of having her there.
<Jersey> She closed her eyes and curled into his hold, shivering softly with his touch before she moved her hand to pull the blankets just a bit higher. She scooted as closer until she couldn't any further, her arm curling over his waist after and pressed a small kiss to the spot just below his neck. The blonde squeezed her arm against his body, falling silent as she listened to the dogs panting and breathing around them - she felt Hunter take up the spot beside her. After sometime, she drifted off into a light sleep tucked away in his hold and happiness.
<Peter Parkman> Peter did what he was told and crawled across the mattress to sit by Jersey. The dogs followed suit. It was a family gathering right there on the mattress. She asked what was going on in his head as he snuggled in close. He tugged at the blanket and pulled it up over their heads. "I think we should make a cubby," he said, slowly, and then hummed.
<Jersey> The blonde was confused. It was clear on her face before she wiped it away and began to brush her fingertips through his hair, "A cubby?" Jersey pressed a kiss to his temple and held him close, waiting for her answer. "Peter?"
<Peter Parkman> "Yes," he said, though ended up staring at the blankness of the sheet as he pulled it over their heads. Did he remember how to make one? He blinked. Tried. "Pegs," he said. Yes, he'd pilfered his mother's clothes pegs. "Mmm. And a fire. In the middle. Marshmallows," his eyes were gleaming, now. He was getting his memories of cubbies mixed up with those of camping, with a tent. Ellie had found her way beneath the sheets with them and was attempting to curl up in Peter's lap. He pet her, absently.
<Jersey> Jersey blinked softly as she tried to put together what he was talking about and as he mentioned fires and marshmellows, it became clear to her once more that he was still out of it and that her answers would not be coming. "Why don't we," She suggested softly as she adjusted to push him down into the bed, her hand resting on his chest, "lay down and you can tell me all about your cubbies? We can't have fires here, but we can have one when we go home when you're all nice and better."
<Peter Parkman> Somewhere, deep down, it registered with Peter that Jersey was talking to him like one might talk to a child; an unreasonable child with unreasonable ideas. He frowned his dismay. If he were more coherent, and more in charge of his body and its balance, he would just start making one. They could have fun as adults, right? That kind of fun? She nudged at him to get him to lie down, and Peter did so - though for two fleeting seconds he had 'fun' and 'adult' in his mind, and feared what Jersey might do. The kinds of things that might distract him completely from incoherence and pain - but would she? He didn't believe that she would take advantage of his condition. He relaxed, the muscles in his neck still twitching a little. "You...." he was going to ask if she'd never made a cubby before, but stopped himself. "....don't remember," he added with a sigh. Ellie readjusted so that she was curled up in between Jersey and Peter, clingy little thing that she was. His mind had already drifted on to other things.
<Jersey> She was going to behave as she had been for the duration of his injuries. The blonde frowned softly and then gave a small shake of her past, feeling embarrassed lightly as she felt the mattress dip behind her as Hunter joined them. She laid down comfortably beside him, adjusting to lay on her stomach as she looked up at him. “I don’t.” She confirmed and gave a small sigh. Once again, her accident had robbed her from something. It didn’t help that she didn’t understand what the hell he was going on about, either. A cubby and fire with marshmallows? And then it dawned on her. “Did you mean a tent?” She asked, rubbing her thumb softly against his chest.
<Peter Parkman> It seemed all the more important to Peter that they make a cubby, now. Jersey seemed sad and rightly so, that she could not remember. And Peter lamented having brought it up. Where Peter had begun to think about Ellie, and where Jack was because the two were near inseparable, and imagining that the dogs had had an argument and now one was sleeping without the other, Jersey's question brought him back around to the cubby. "Mmm," he nodded, slightly, in affirmation. And then: "Do you think Jack and Ellie are arguing? Jack! Jack?" he called, twisting his head this way and that to try and find the other dog, cringing as the healing skin at his neck stretched uncomfortably.
<Jersey> "We can make one, then, if you'd like. I didn't understand what you meant by cubby." The blonde explained and squeezed his side after her hand slid there across his bare skin. "Arguing?" Was he hearing things? Did he get bit harder than she first thought? She frowned and peered at the wound at his eye in concern. She felt her stomach churn and then looked down to Ellie as he looked around for the dog. Jersey reached up to turn his head softly back to the former position as she saw him cringe, her green eyes widening, "He's around here somewhere, be careful. Your neck is still healing." She pressed a kiss to his lips before she sat up and watched Jack come to them from underneath the bed. "See, here he is." She smiled a bit, scratching behind the dog's ears after he seemed to take possession of her lap.
<Peter Parkman> Peter sighed, having completely forgotten about the idea of making a cubby. Maybe later, he told himself. For now, he was far too concerned about the dogs and their emotional wellbeing. He curled onto his side a little bit so as to make room for Jack, should he decide to join his boon buddy. He palm flattened out against Ellie's back, scratching her there, but smiled as he watched her half crawl closer to Jack. Jack started to lick Ellie's face, even as he remained in Jersey's lap. A past time the two dogs often indulged in. "...bad things happen when people argue," he said, thinking of nothing really specific, but of past events all accumulated into one.
<Jersey> "Mm," She carefully held onto the dog as she moved to lay down, setting him down beside Ellie and adjusting to lay on her side to face them and Peter. She felt Hunter's large head prop itself up on her thigh to watch them all. When the man spoke again, she crossed one arm beneath her head and used it as a pillow. "Mm, yes and no. Sometimes bad things can lead to good things." She reached over to cup his jaw softly, "What bad thing are you thinking about, love?"
<Peter Parkman> It was true. Caroline and he had argued often, but the sex after they'd made up was amazing. To make up after an argument was like a reaffirmation of the love they'd pledged to each other to begin with. Except for that last argument - that one that led her to her to do something stupid. And Peter would not talk about it. And tried never to argue with anyone since. He recalled his own demise, which was due to an argument between other people. He recalled the fadebeast on the boat. He shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he sighed, and then smiled. Because he was here, with Jersey. And that was a good thing.
<Jersey> She studied his expression carefully after he said that it doesn't matter, leaning over the dogs before she pressed her lips gently against his for a few moments after he smiled. It was her way of trying to wash away all of the negative thoughts in his head, even if for a little while and lightly, she pulled back with a smile of her own. "I love you."
<Peter Parkman> Peter cringed when she pressed the kiss to his lips; not because it was unwelcome but because of how he must look. The gouge in his cheek was still there. Every time he pushes his tongue against it, he thought that his tongue might go straight through. He stopped doing that, giving the wound time and ability to heal. It wouldn't heal if he kept prodding at it. "...loveyoumore," he murmured, reaching for Jersey's hand so that he might be able to tuck it between his own.
<Jersey> "Mm, why did you cringe?" She asked gently before pulling back and offering a small smile, chuckling as she moved her hand to his, "Mm, nope." The blonde chimed teasingly, "I don't think that's possible."
<Peter Parkman> "Because," he said. He hadn't the mental energy to properly word the reasons why he had cringed, let alone try to remember whether he actually did. It had been a subconscious reaction. "...agree to disagree," he said, choosing instead to focus on the discussion about who loved who more.
<Jersey> Jersey considered it curiously and pressed her lips softly to his once more, "Mm, fine." She waited for Ellie and Jack to relocate before scooting closer and lightly tugged the blanket over their hips. She moved her hand to rest on his waist after, watching the man with a fond expression. "I didn't faint when I found you like that." She spoke softly, clearly still proud of herself.
<Peter Parkman> With the dogs absent and Jersey's body a slip of a thing next to his, Peter acted absent-mindedly as his hand grazed over her hip and pressed up, flat against her back. Absently, his hand had slipped beneath her shirt rather than staying on top of it. "M'glad," he mumbled. "Proud of you," he rasped with a teasing grin.
<Jersey> She smiled softly and pressed another light kiss to his lips, comfortable while she stroked over his side as she watched him. It idly crossed her mind that she didn't put on a bra that day, but the thought was pressed away as she reached up to softly run her fingertips along his jaw affectionately. "Is there anything I can do, love?" She questioned, not bothered about the gash in his cheek or his damaged eye. Her expression never changed to anything but concern or happiness.
<Peter Parkman> He shook his head even as he threw a leg over hers, hooking his knee around her knee and holding her that tiny bit closer. The notion of 'doing something' suggested that she would have to get up and leave him there on the mattress, alone. Even tangled as they were, the notion of 'doing something' was tempting, and yet also felt highly ludicrous. To negate the need for her to do anything was the best bet. "Just stay there..." he said. If he was going to be ordered to be confined to bed, then this was how he wanted to do it.
<Jersey> Because of the position she was in, Jersey found herself simply just reaching for the cord and turned it off that way before she cuddled up to Peter, her hand moving to set his back in place before hers found his chest once more. She wasn't going to be moving any time soon. "Alright." She mumbled and simply relaxed. "Hm... now that you're just a bit more lucid... tell me what made Keara roll her eyes?" She questioned, "If you can remember."
<Peter Parkman> He was a little more lucid. It was almost as if, when he tried to move too much, the activity messed with his brain. When he was still, relaxing, his brain was better able to focus on what he was doing, and what he was saying. His eyes were closed even though he was still listening, and a thoughtful frown creased his brow. "Keara rolled her eyes? When?" he asked.
<Jersey> "Mm, something you thought had her rolling her eyes the day you were attacked... dogs, fire... it was after she'd asked us if we had anything we wanted to know from you." She explained while she reached up to lightly stroke across the frown, "Mentioned me, too." She smiled at that, clearly happy she was on his mind even when he was hurting.
<Peter Parkman> "Oh, uhm..." Peter wasn't being evasive on purpose. He was trying to remember. He licked his lips and kept his eyes closed. And then, after a second or three, he chuckled. A low, vibrating sound in the base of his throat. "I wasn't entirely... with it. I don't really remember except that I was thinking happy thoughts," he said. "I think she now thinks you and I sleep together naked all the time," he added, opening his one good eye in order to try to see Jersey's reaction.
<Jersey> She chuckled and lowered her hand back to his side, watching him as he thought and then blinked at the mention of happy thoughts. "What happy thoughts?" She asked, and then her jaw fell slightly at the idea. Jersey swallowed before trying to figure out what to say. "I'd never even seen you without pants on until I had to help you out of the tub and change your clothes recently." She tugged playfully on his pants, "And you've only seen half of me by firelight."
<Peter Parkman> "I know," Peter said, closing his eyes again. His gravelly voice still had nothing in it but amusement. "Happy thoughts don't have to be memories, you know. They can be... things that I want," he mumbled with half a sigh. This time he didn't open his eyes to gauge Jersey's reaction. he kept them shut.
<Jersey> "We can, if you'd like. Preferably when you're better... and not because of the idea of your injuries, but because you're hurt and I'd rather you be able to see completely and enjoy the view." She reached up to brush her fingertips through his hair, "Tell me about what you want?"
<Peter Parkman> Peter's hand was now moving, tracing the line of Jersey's spine, up and down. It was a nervous reaction, the restless need to do something rather than nothing as he lay there in the darkness, that honeyed voice spilling into his ear. "I want..." he swallowed. There was something about their position, and about his delirium, that vanquished many of his normal inhibitions. There was no harm in telling her what he wanted. His tongue came unstuck from the roof of his mouth as he continued: "I want for you to be happy. I want to explore every inch of you...to find out how to make you happy," he said.
<Jersey> She hummed softly at the idea, at what he wanted and thought about it quietly as she lay there running her fingertips gently against his scalp, her nails making small circles while she considered it. She wanted the same for him, and rather than voice it, she stopped her humming and put her head closer to his. "We're going to have to make that a reality at some point... but... for now, I have you safe and sound right here. That makes me very happy."
<Peter Parkman> "Mmm," he hummed, relaxation stealing through all of his limbs as her fingernails traced lines along his scalp. It was a reality that he wanted, and he knew, in that moment, that sooner or later it was something that he would have the inability to stop. Yes, there were other ways they could gain and give pleasure to each other. The boundary would continue to be crossed and broadened, until there was no boundary left. And in that moment, Peter couldn't summon the energy to care. Other precautions could be taken, right? His own hand swept down over Jersey's waist before winding back up her spine, fingers curled over her shoulder as he held her as close as he could possibly bring her. He kissed her on the top of her head and sighed as he succumbed to the happiness of having her there.
<Jersey> She closed her eyes and curled into his hold, shivering softly with his touch before she moved her hand to pull the blankets just a bit higher. She scooted as closer until she couldn't any further, her arm curling over his waist after and pressed a small kiss to the spot just below his neck. The blonde squeezed her arm against his body, falling silent as she listened to the dogs panting and breathing around them - she felt Hunter take up the spot beside her. After sometime, she drifted off into a light sleep tucked away in his hold and happiness.
it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction