#;thomas

Thomas takes a deep breath as he rolls over in bed, a hand absently reaching over to rest on Ellen's shoulder....except instead his hand lands on her pillow. She's not there. It takes a second for this to really register with him before he opens his eyes, a frown appearing on his face. She's been sleepwalking more as of late, something they've both been concerned about. He half hopes that maybe she just got up to get a drink of water or something like that, but there's a terrible sense of dread within him that tells him otherwise.

The touch of Ellen's hand is ice cold, but it's something that Thomas has slowly grown used to since they've reunited. Her fingers are a little longer, nails a little sharper, but her touch is still soft and gentle and loving as it's always been. It just goes to show that she is still herself, even if she's been turned. But he doesn't mind at all, as long as they get to be together.

Thomas intertwines their fingers, rolling over onto his side to face her. The light of the moon peeks through the curtains, and while he knows she doesn't sleep during the night, it's still habit. He finds it hard to sleep without her by his side.

"Mmh-"

It has been so long, hasn't it? So long since they've seen each other, so long since Thomas has even felt the touch of another person. Ever since he thought he lost her, he hasn't really had anyone else, had no desire to, for who else could even hold a candle to her? Even though her hands and body are cold to the touch, it doesn't bother him in the slightest. The weight of her pressed against him is enough.

Her lips press to his neck and he sucks in a breath, feeling the points of her teeth graze against the skin. Thomas chokes back a whimper, his grip on her hips tightening ever so slightly. His heart stutters in his chest, not out of fear, but of want. There is an unspoken agreement between them now that she can take from him whenever she needs to. He is a willing donor among all of this. It's better than her having to kill people, and besides....he likes it.

Coming home to Ellen is always the best part of Thomas' day. The clock at work ticks by slowly, each minute agonizing and drawn out until he's finally free to leave. As always, when he comes home, he calls out for her and pulls her into his arms when he sees her smiling face. It's as if all of his stress and worries melt into nothing when she's in his embrace. He buries his face in her hair, takes a deep breath. All is right with the world.

"He's a very admirable person and I respect him deeply. I'm also grateful he trusts me despite my young age, anyone else wouldn't have even allowed me to keep Gaomon and join DATS because of it's risks but I'm glad he did." That, and he always did admire those who can keep a commanding yet respectful presence.

"...What's that? Oh, is that a human holiday? I don't know what that's supposed to celebrate, sorry! I'll have to ask Clawdeen what that holiday means for humans."

"Hey, I'm always for a laugh! Just a shame I can't see fireworks, I've got a snow day to make over in Australia tomorrow."

"Oh, right, that's the American holiday...I'm not American so I don't get any jokes for it, even after living in America for a few months." He spent his time there mainly researching Digimon with several professors, so his time was occupied elsewhere.

"I...I don't..know."

The journey home was long and arduous, especially in the state that Thomas is in. He's surprised that he made it back in one piece. As he lays there in their bed, staring at the ceiling, it feels like he's going to be sick. He hasn't eaten, hasn't slept. All he knew is that he had to get back to Ellen before that damned creature did.

He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore how utterly feverish he feels. Thomas reaches over, taking Ellen's hands in his own and holding them tight. "It doesn't matter. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere ever again," he chokes out, opening his eyes to look up at her. No, he couldn't, not with how things are.