#greymoralities

@greymoralities​ said : 😴 - climbs into bed with my muse  eddie ➵ chrissy

        𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 for the reason chrissy’s waking world had turned into a real-life horror movie, it should have been easier to sleep, knowing that at least she wasn’t losing her sanity. but nothing was ever so simple. she’d tried taking baths at night, tried smoking, even tried to cuddle with her most favorite stuffed animal ( a large yellow duck she’d cleverly named ‘duckling’ as a child, and had somehow spun into ‘duckleen’ as she’d gotten older ), all to no effect. running now on close to two hours of sleep within the last two days, chrissy knew it was bad. she’d managed to pass off some lie to her parents about sleeping at sadie’s house, and another to jason about being sick and staying in... when in reality she was at eddie’s place, watching him through the doorway as he prepared to bed down on his couch. 

it sat far away. too far, she thought, counting the steps mentally. if anything happened to her... or him... it’d be too late. she told herself that was the reason she asked eddie to come closer, to sleep beside her. and sure, there was truth there. not enough of it, yes, but there was truth nonetheless. ❝ we can put a pillow between us, ❞ she babbled, blinking blearily up at him. ❝ or you know, keep duckleen there. or I-I can sleep on top of the sheets, if you’re uncomfortable but I just... ❞ she blinked, and it was all too easy to admit: ❝ I don’t want to be alone. and I... feel safe when you’re with me. ❞ 

she can't help it: she has to laugh, head thrown back and no attempts made to hide the ugly cackle that forces its way out of her throat. it's a fair judgment really, and she doesn't have it in her to be offended or anything but amused, when it comes down to it.

"i mean, takes a weirdo t'know a weirdo, i'm pretty sure," vic says, still laughing. this has caught her so genuinely off guard, but based on what she knows of santana? it absolutely shouldn't have. "'preciate the sentiment, though. the secret bit, i mean. thanks."

“It’s the one that looks suspiciously like a liquor cabinet. Sunnydale Motor Inn doesn’t exactly give you a lotta options,” Faith grunted, clutching her fresh wound with discomfort. Nothing she couldn’t soldier through, she’d had worse. But Willow seemed determined to help.

Faith wasn’t exactly keen on Buffy or any of her pals seeing how she lived, as Spartan as her quarters were. But when she and Red were caught out together against some sort of... really ugly demon (weren’t most of them?), the Slayer didn’t get much choice.

”Tired? Not a chance, B- Slayers are meant to be up all night anyways. It’s in our wiring,” Faith protested, pulling her arm away from Buffy’s grasp, gesturing back towards the Bronze. 

Normally she wouldn’t shy away from the blonde’s touch, but it was always ‘school’ this and ‘homework’ that and ‘comfy pajamas’ so and so. Faith didn’t have those same concerns, so it always seemed like a convenient excuse to ignore their destiny. To ignore her. That motel room was awful quiet, even when the half-busted TV set was droning on in the background. Sure, Faith loved having her own space, but what good was the slayer life without someone to share it with?