#highcmdr

@vrepit-sa

In all honesty, there was nothing she loathed more than leaving, so many goodbyes had stained the action with an air of resentment, even now that they were together always. Even so they always end up so entwined that it’s nearly impossible to leave (which suits her just fine). The Commander sighs through her nose, there was work to be done, of course, always something more, ready and waiting, a message needing her attention, a stack of paperwork, so many details that it would make a lesser person’s head spin with the responsibility.

It wasn’t like her to put off work for any reason, but once again he proves the exception to everything, a priority above all else. They’d just won a major battle after all, perhaps it would be wise to find solace in these seldom quiet times, there was no telling when (or, stars forbid, if…) the next moment alone would come.

The tips of her claws stroke thoughtfully through a stray tuft of fur at his cheek, the action is gentle and affectionate, smoothing it down and back into place. Seeing him like this, so mussed and unguarded, are the memories she treasures the most. Moments such as these that don’t require words, just a simple action of reaching out to speak volumes of comfort and longing.

sendak’s new solution: throwing the bf who just happens to be holding the kid

it can still be accurate

*furious scribbling and taping sounds* >:(

I looked at all our nonsense and thought: Could I ever make a drabble out of this? Well..

She’s kneading the heel of her hand against her eye, and sniffs at herself a little, too, while making her way down the hall. The castle’s on its night cycle, meaning all the lights are either dimmed or off—giving Pidge the impression that she needs to tip-toe and keep her voice low.

Besides the minor shuffling, the girl hardly makes a peep all the way from her lap-space to Shiro’s door. Usually, she works herself into sporadic naps until comatose eats the better-half of one day—rinse and repeat—but honestly, she needs to stretch a little.

Ryner gave her an Olkarion puzzle, one where you have to wear those interface-bands, and slowly solve an encrypted cube. After vargas of concentration in binary, Pidge solved the final code: We’re All Connected. She’s never felt so drained.

She’s tired, but not enough to just lay herself down for the night, so she decided to see what Shiro was doing. He’s basically the poster-boy for insomnia; if anyone knew miscellaneous activities to hold you over for the night, then it was him.

Ever true to her little sister tendencies, she welcomes herself into Shiro’s room, and prattles right away. “Hey, Shiro, do you think--” That is, until she realized he was in bed, and someone else was laying with him.

Sendak.

She knows it’s him. No one else on the ship can form that massive of a shillouhoute, or has a glaring red, dot and yellow slit that glimmers in the dark for eyes. Pidge freezes up, hearing a distinctive clicking sound reverberate through the room. That was Sendak, too, but all the sudden, Pidge is imagining a territorial cat—back-arched and hackles raised. She’d hiss right back, or maybe laugh at the thought of Sendak being a giant, shitty cat, if she wasn’t at least a little mortified.

It was all societal convention: When you walked in on moments like these, the real tender and intimate ones, you’re suppose to turn away. She could cuddle with her parents when they were watching movies in bed, tease Shiro or Matt about their awkward crushes, then remind them that she’s supposed to be their greatest treasure; however, you’re suppose to let people have their moments, and this scene looked like one of those times. It’s what she’s learned as a child, and goes directly against her “Don’t let Shiro and Sendak date or whatever they’re doing” agenda.

If she had a head-full of wires, she’d be buffering right now—trying to figure if she should scamper off or pick a fight.

Either all the little sounds stirred Shiro awake, or he sensed the potential conflict, because he started to stir. The room is dark, Sendak’s eyes and the dim hall lights bleeding through the open door are the only form of illumination, but Pidge’s eyes are starting to adjust, and she can see that Sendak had been holding Shiro to his front. She can’t see how Sendak tenses his hold for a few ticks; just how Shiro slowly picks himself up from the sheets.

He makes some groggy sounds, like he was just waking up. Okay, now she really does feel guilty. Shiro hardly ever sleeps, and now she’s woken him up. Pidge takes a step back, trying to stammer some apology, when Shiro turns to her, and murmurs rather tiredly, “Katie?”