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With Each Morning, A Grateful Heart



 
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Bodhi Jones

As if he could say no.

Gray's sincerity was met with heartfelt agreement, though he's certain he couldn't have brought himself to leave even had he wanted to. So much of this feels entirely out of his control, as he's come to accept most things are. But there is an undeniable allure to the prospect of choice, even more so in being chosen. The alternative, no matter how accepted, would certainly have stung. Choice or not, he is grateful; to Gray, to the Universe, even to himself.

So, they shared the night. And night inevitably bleeds into morning, every damn time.

As if tied to the Sun, he rises with it unbidden, no matter the hour he'd laid down to rest. It's deeply ingrained within him, and probably to blame for his constant state of exhaustion, but to change it is a futile endeavor, and he enjoys the silent conversations with the center of this small galaxy. He slips from the bed without disturbing its only other occupant, though he will pass the massless lump an affectionate glance.

The door shuts soundlessly, and only once he's alone does he finally breathe outward. Protesting muscles that desperately desired more sleep are stretched and nullified, used to the denial by this point, though still indignant. Modestly dressed in nothing but a pair of nicked sweatpants - they weren't hard to locate in the sparse area that is Gray's bedroom - he moves through the apartment unobtrusively, tying his hair back messily before setting about making a cup of tea. Etiquette would demand that he not take so many liberties as a guest, but he hardly has attention to pay to such a silly concept. Tea is tea, and it's meant for drinking.

Mug in hand, Bodhi pads out to the living room, though he's halted in the middle of the floor by a particularly inviting beam from the Sun. It spreads warmth across the expanse of the hardwood floor, and the houseplant in him revels in the touch. Hickory eyes close off the world as he basks, catlike, in the light, and a contented smile lightly lifts his features.

"I am grateful," he whispers, and the answering warmth floods him that much more, casting its glowing energy into the darkest parts of him. Achey muscles relieve him of their previous spite, giving into the radiation of gentle heat and forgiving him his trespasses.

As you should be, the Sun responds, rebirthing him as is their morning ritual.
August 16, 2019 03:14 pm

Sarah Taylor

She'd slipped in sometime in the wee hours of the morning, barely able to pull herself from the apartment next door but begging her perfect, sweet girl to just get some rest. It is so easy to get wrapped up in whatever whim washes them up, hours ticking by like minutes as they read their poetry and play their games. Better yet, their deep discussions of life and love and a future they have yet to meet. Several sweet kisses were stolen as she made her leave.

Claire, tucked in bed, always made her feel so wanted.

"No," Sarah whispered through her giggles. "You won't rest if I stay, sweet girl. You know it as well as me."

So she crept out of the apartment, a delightful smile upon her lips, and into Gray's. Bare feet would lead her to her room on tiptoe, opening and closing doors as silently as she can so as not to wake her dear brother. She takes care to change, slipping into a massive t-shirt that acts only as a nightgown.

And the minute her head touches the pillow, she finds herself restless and sleep elusive. Sarah would try everything, from counting sheep to flipping through the pages of a well-loved novel, in search of rest.

How cruel the Sandman is, tonight.

More than once, she considers returning to her most favorite person, wondering if she too is suffering from sleeplessness or if, perhaps, she'd been wrong about sleep in it's entirety. Maybe sleep is true, there. Perhaps it is there, in all it's glory, wrapped up in waiting arms. But these considerations are hardly given time to be mulled over, the sun already creeping into the room.

A silent groan has her rolling over, a momentary fit thrown only for herself before she accepts that her body simply is not ready to rest. Rising, she pushes herself out of bed and steps out into the hall. A single glance tells her that Gray's still passed out. This is, naturally, normal. And, with no need to sneak about, she casually walks toward the open living space to find a sight.

"Oh my god," she whispers, hazel hues locking onto Bodhi as a great smile creeps it's way upon her lips.

There is no containing the shamelessly delighted giggle that erupts from her.

"Bodhi Jones." How could she forget a name like that? Claire only ever need tell her once before it was committed to memory. Far from shy, she steps forward, so very ready to greet him, her voice a melodic flurry of excitement. "This is fantastic. Wow. Just.. wow."

A tsk, and she stops before him, unintentionally blocking his sun. "Way to go, Gray," a whispered praise is issued, accompanied by a nod. "How long have you two been dating? Did I wake you up? Can I please hug you?"
August 16, 2019 03:43 pm

Bodhi Jones

She doesn't startle him; he half expected her at some point, due in part to Gray's warning the night before and his own deductive reasoning. As such, when she giggles and proclaims her excitement in the tone of his name, he doesn't outwardly react right away, save for the smile stretching that much more on his face. Her shadow falls over him, felt rather than seen, and its only after his final salutations that he'll finally open one eye, letting it fall to the girl before him.

"You have an accent." The observation has him laughing and ignoring all other questions for the time being, though he does open his arms wide to accept the invitation. They embrace warmly, much like old friends, and just like that, any potential tension is dead on arrival.

Upon parting, Bodhi raises the mug in offering, moving toward the kitchen once she nods her acceptance. "You didn't wake me," he finally answers as he walks, mindful of his tone so as to not have it carry and actually do some disturbing of its own, "I'm always up with the sun." A few large mouthfuls are taken of his own tea, now lukewarm, and only once he's satisfied that he's made enough room will he go about preparing a second mug alongside his own.

Careful to avoid the semantics of her first inquiry, he dances around it easily. "This is the first night I've stayed here, by the way, if that's what you're getting at." He's not one to put pressure on anything, and more than once he thought he'd felt a touch of hesitation in the course of his and Gray's evening, and not on his part. That's not to say he couldn't have been mistaken, but he would be loathe to put it in Sarah's head that they are much more serious than Gray might have wanted or intended. Dating makes it take on a life of its own, and while that might not bother Bodhi...

Well. Patience is a virtue, even if he doesn't believe in the ideology.

"What has you up so early, then? I did notice that you came in rather late." His tone has taken on a teasing lilt, showcasing his willingness to give just as much as he receives. And this particular pair, one of which is standing in front of him in full third-degree mode, has not been shy about their prying. Not that he cares, mind you; the straightforward approach is one that he can always appreciate. "Up making more schemes and plans? I think I'm doing just fine on my own, though, just saying..." He grins over the rim as he sips thoughtfully.
August 16, 2019 04:16 pm

Sarah Taylor

Is it possible to fall in love with an idea? Sarah would always argue yes. "Tak, tak," she grins widely, nodding along playfully so that he would at the very least get the idea of what she is saying. Yes, she has an accent.

She can barely keep it together, her mind resting somewhere between laughter and the desire to cry out of sheer happiness as his arms spread wide. Sarah would step forward immediately, wrapping her arms around the man in one of the warmest hugs she has ever experienced. What a treat it is. Sarah soaks it up, ecstatic and dying to call Claire over while also desiring nothing more than to selfishly let this be hers.

"We're Polish," a whispered secret accompanied by a wink as they part, she glances down at the mug. "Ugh, yes please."

Faithful, enthused, and enraptured, she follows Bodhi to her own damned kitchen and watches as he sets about. He is so comfortable, it makes her wonder at how many times he has been here. "I see," she whispers. "I am sorry for interrupting.. whatever that was. It just.. you're here!"

Another laugh colors her words, a bright shade of pleasant disbelief coating everything. Glancing toward the hall, she takes a deep breath and works to calm herself down. Her delight is something she would never be sorry for, and Sarah is quite sure he would not be asking her of that.

"The first of many nights, I hope."

What has you up so early, then?

Her jaw drops in playful delight, and Sarah moves through the kitchen, collecting a tiny spoon and the sugar bowl so that she might set about sweetening her own tea. "Claire," the answer is so simple, and her contented bliss is so very clear in just that single syllable. "But this is not about us, dear Bodhi." Raising a impish brow, moves to hoist herself up onto the counter, making herself comfortable to sit.

Gray hates it when she does this.

"I'd say you are doing more than just fine." Sipping her tea, a finger is lifted to indicate him. "Don't be so modest, Bodhi. Just fine.. pfft." Another quiet giggle, and Sarah sets her mug down and waves a dismissive hand to such a notion. "Trust me, Claire and I already started planning your entire future together the minute you left for lunch. You should know that you two, per the laws of MASH, will live in a shack with two children, a cat, and a Maserati."
August 16, 2019 04:48 pm
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