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Daylight Fading - The Simple Life
Aug. 4th, 2005 10:08 amAlthough she was sleeping when I myself woke up, the breeze that shifted the draperies by the window informed me that she'd already been up once, and had returned to the bed. Soft, sussurant breaths meant that she'd fallen back into a deep, restful sleep and wasn't likely to be merely pretending to sleep while I woke. As carefully as I could manage, I slipped out from under her outstretched arm and left the bed.
'Her'. My mind turned the word over and over as I pulled on the jeans that had been hastily thrown to the other side of the room the night before. I couldn't, I knew, refer to the female laying slumbering in the bed simply as 'her' in perpetuity. Frowning at this new complication, I resolved to unmake it as quickly as possible. I couldn't bring myself to call her 'Fred', for truly I realised that Fred had not in any way been resurrected. And despite the form and face, the personality and the need that I felt from her was purely Illyria.
Problem solved, I decided. She was Illyria, and always had been and always would be. She was now simply Illyria forever wearing a face that would make me happy. That was all.
Sliding a shirt over my shoulders and rolling up the sleeves, I then stood at the window, no doubt where Illyria had gone when she'd first woken. She did so like to look out at the world, at nature, after all. As I watched Rome wake up around us, I recognised the feeling settling comfortably into the back of my head. It was contentment.
Contentment eased the tension in my shoulders, soothed the pain from the dozen bruises and scrapes I'd picked up during my recent reckless behaviour, and made promises of happiness that brought warmth to very cold corners of my mind. I was well aware that I might be content for all the wrong reasons as far as anyone else might consider them, but I cared not a whit.
It was easy, simple, and pleasing, and those were all the right reasons as far as I was concerned. That was all I wanted, and that was all I gave a damn about right now.
A soft sound called my attention back to the bed. Illyria had turned in her sleep, long now-brown hair fanning out over the pillows, her movement causing the sheets to slip down to her waist. I gave it very little thought, as I had come to consider thinking to be a pastime contrary to my happiness. Easy, simple, pleasing.
Slipping back out of the clothes I'd just donned, I slid back into bed and pulled her body into the circle of my arms.
'Her'. My mind turned the word over and over as I pulled on the jeans that had been hastily thrown to the other side of the room the night before. I couldn't, I knew, refer to the female laying slumbering in the bed simply as 'her' in perpetuity. Frowning at this new complication, I resolved to unmake it as quickly as possible. I couldn't bring myself to call her 'Fred', for truly I realised that Fred had not in any way been resurrected. And despite the form and face, the personality and the need that I felt from her was purely Illyria.
Problem solved, I decided. She was Illyria, and always had been and always would be. She was now simply Illyria forever wearing a face that would make me happy. That was all.
Sliding a shirt over my shoulders and rolling up the sleeves, I then stood at the window, no doubt where Illyria had gone when she'd first woken. She did so like to look out at the world, at nature, after all. As I watched Rome wake up around us, I recognised the feeling settling comfortably into the back of my head. It was contentment.
Contentment eased the tension in my shoulders, soothed the pain from the dozen bruises and scrapes I'd picked up during my recent reckless behaviour, and made promises of happiness that brought warmth to very cold corners of my mind. I was well aware that I might be content for all the wrong reasons as far as anyone else might consider them, but I cared not a whit.
It was easy, simple, and pleasing, and those were all the right reasons as far as I was concerned. That was all I wanted, and that was all I gave a damn about right now.
A soft sound called my attention back to the bed. Illyria had turned in her sleep, long now-brown hair fanning out over the pillows, her movement causing the sheets to slip down to her waist. I gave it very little thought, as I had come to consider thinking to be a pastime contrary to my happiness. Easy, simple, pleasing.
Slipping back out of the clothes I'd just donned, I slid back into bed and pulled her body into the circle of my arms.
