08-18-2013, 05:58 PM
Though Sid tries to be quiet on the stairs, she's no ninja. Steps creak beneath her weight as she ascends, past art and photographs and a unicycle that no one claims yet is always someplace new.
The door swings open and all Sid sees is Sera at first. Sera cast in shadows that exaggerate her weariness, her hollowed-out-ness. Sera cast in silhouette by the dim light of outside spilling into the room behind her. And Sid is there, standing in the deeper shadows of the hallway. Hers is a soft darkness, soft dark hair, soft dark t-shirt, soft dark pants, her face a pale bespectacled shadow. She has her messenger bag, the last article of frayed and faded clothing she still owns, the bag with her belongings was left in her car, her feet are bare.
Without a word she wraps her arms around Sera's shoulders, pulling her in close as the Cultist says hey all quiet-like. Sera's arms go around her in turn, and Sid relaxes a little, giving and receiving comfort in perhaps unequal measure. There was a time when she was better at offering comfort, and while Sid is slowly working her way back into something that vaguely resembles that former self, that skin will never fit the way it did. She will always be a little different, because she is different. That's what time does to a person, it changes them. But she can hug, at least, even though she has no words. And she holds her there for a little while, because maybe Sera starts crying a little and Sid's embrace tightens a little, as if through a slight increase of pressure she could banish the reason for those tears.
When Sid releases her, hands sliding to cover Sera's shoulders, she still doesn't take much notice of the room beyond her friend. When she does look past Sera, her eyes are drawn to the figure in the bed, a figure that even in the darkness still gives the impression of glowing golden skin. Sid blinks her eyes and is surprised there is no gleaming purple-green-red afterimage from the sun's glaring light.
Obviously, Sera and Hawksley had been in bed together. Sid doesn't apologize or threaten to leave the pair of them in peace or become overcome with awkwardness for having interrupted something, though. If Sera had wanted her to stay away she wouldn't have answered Sid's text with Then come. Sid looks from the bed and Hawksley to Sera, and she says the first thing she's said out loud in hours.
"What do you need?"
The door swings open and all Sid sees is Sera at first. Sera cast in shadows that exaggerate her weariness, her hollowed-out-ness. Sera cast in silhouette by the dim light of outside spilling into the room behind her. And Sid is there, standing in the deeper shadows of the hallway. Hers is a soft darkness, soft dark hair, soft dark t-shirt, soft dark pants, her face a pale bespectacled shadow. She has her messenger bag, the last article of frayed and faded clothing she still owns, the bag with her belongings was left in her car, her feet are bare.
Without a word she wraps her arms around Sera's shoulders, pulling her in close as the Cultist says hey all quiet-like. Sera's arms go around her in turn, and Sid relaxes a little, giving and receiving comfort in perhaps unequal measure. There was a time when she was better at offering comfort, and while Sid is slowly working her way back into something that vaguely resembles that former self, that skin will never fit the way it did. She will always be a little different, because she is different. That's what time does to a person, it changes them. But she can hug, at least, even though she has no words. And she holds her there for a little while, because maybe Sera starts crying a little and Sid's embrace tightens a little, as if through a slight increase of pressure she could banish the reason for those tears.
When Sid releases her, hands sliding to cover Sera's shoulders, she still doesn't take much notice of the room beyond her friend. When she does look past Sera, her eyes are drawn to the figure in the bed, a figure that even in the darkness still gives the impression of glowing golden skin. Sid blinks her eyes and is surprised there is no gleaming purple-green-red afterimage from the sun's glaring light.
Obviously, Sera and Hawksley had been in bed together. Sid doesn't apologize or threaten to leave the pair of them in peace or become overcome with awkwardness for having interrupted something, though. If Sera had wanted her to stay away she wouldn't have answered Sid's text with Then come. Sid looks from the bed and Hawksley to Sera, and she says the first thing she's said out loud in hours.
"What do you need?"