#phirol

She’d been in Woodbury a few days now, and honestly she still wasn’t quite over it. Virtually untouched by the world of clawing hands and gnashing jaws outside its walls. Everything was so clean, not a spot of blood to be found on the streets or the buildings, it was familiar yet out of place. It didn’t seem to fit in this new world at first, but she couldn’t ignore the sanctuary it provided for her uneasy mind. And the house. Albeit not a real house so to speak; Phillip’s apartment on one of the higher floors of a building, but it made a welcome change to the hard concrete of the prison, the open landscape of the quarry, hell the RV felt palatial when they’d had it, but compared to this? She couldn’t have been more contented if she’d found herself in a mansion.

Sophia seemed to have already made herself at home; her own little room just off to the side of the living area. Carol folded her arms over her chest to try and contain her unbridled happiness as the girl showed her around it, showed her the few little books she had in her possession, her bed, all the rest other little bits she’d accumulated over the last couple of years.

It wasn’t a huge room, it was enough for her little girl to sleep in and that thought made her heart swell with happiness and gratitude. She was more than happy to take the couch. Because, Jesus, a couch. Soft leather and cushions you could gladly sink into; and with an old blanket wrapped around her that’s just what she did the first few nights she stayed there. One of them fell asleep before the other could protest otherwise, so the somewhat stubborn silver haired woman had her comfortable spot on the couch. It wasn’t like it was any slimmer than the prison bed she’d called her own, it was no problem with her at all.

Though as the darkness takes over Woodbury, the little glowing fires out on the street flicker their amber light up into the sky, dancing vaguely on the glass of his apartment windows. Though the thin curtains in his room are drawn he can still see the faded glow of the fire against their fabric, hazy rythmic movements capture his attention as he lies awake in the bed. The night isn’t warm. Nor is it cold. He isn’t hungry or thirsty. He has no good reason to be awake. But he is. His mind stirred in the early hours and he’s been awake for whatever indeterminable time has passed since then. His good eye hovers over the muted light against his window while the rest of the room lies in darkness, flat out on his back, the room silent and still but for the soft rush of his breaths and the rise and fall of the sheets with his chest as they leave him. Then his head cocks, glances upward towards the shadowed outline of his door.

It’s a noise that alerts him, holds his head just slightly away from the pillow in the dark. A little sniff of a half-asleep form he knows is out on his couch, stirring in their sleep. A gentle smile eases over his lips, letting out a quiet breath of a chuckle as he hears it again; hears her shuffle around in her blankets out there.

Restless nights are not uncommon to Carol. Unpleasant thoughts or just plain not being able to keep her eyes shut. She has nothing to be afraid of as far as she is concerned for the present moment, so she assumes its the latter. Though she refuses to consumate it by actually opening her eyes; her mind is easing itself awake as she becomes conscious she’s not going to sleep through the night again, rearranging herself on the couch, trying not to slip off or lose her blankets. But she has to open her eyes for that. Dammit, she thinks to herself, lips pulling into a discontented grimace as she yanks the old blanket right up to her neck, shuffling back into the couch and curling herself up.

She freezes at the quiet creak. True, it’s only quiet. But it’s enough to startle her. “…Carol?” is the soft whisper that comes from a darkened corner of the room. The woman buried in the sheets immediately calms, shadowed eyes squinting through the dark, “Where are you” half asleep thoughts melt into words and peel through tired lips as she lifts her head just a little up off the couch pillow. “Jus’ here” he replies, stepping forward into the dim glow from the night that falls into the room through the window; a quiet silvery glow that dances with golden flickers, moonlight and fire mingling and tumbling into the apartment. She can see him now, almost. Well, she can see the outline of him at least. From where he stands he can see the vague light through the windows fall over the shadow of his couch, and nothing else. His eye-patch is already fixed over the marred socket and the other eye braces itself as he reaches for the light switch. “Agh” Carol’s eyes clamp shut as the stark artificial light fills the room, shifting herself on the couch like it might keep it from her somehow. Her lip pulls back over her teeth a little with the stinging in her eyes, Phillip lets his hand fall away from the switch, his own lips pressed flat as he tries -with not all that much effort, or success- to restrain a small chuckle at the woman; hair tousled up and enveloped in a thin blanket, still fully clothed, curled up in the middle of the couch. Face screwed up and head held heavily up off the cushion. “Carol…” he starts, but there’s no particular direction to the speech that follows and so it hangs in the air alone, a smile etched onto his lips as he hovers by the wall looking at her. Eventually she prises her weary eyes open, and though the world seems to be on a sort of delay, the hazy images that fall into her vision are clear enough. “Phillip…” she retorts, mocking his tone as she makes an attempt to sit up, still grasping at the blanket and pulling it around her as she balls herself up in the corner of the couch.

"Can i help you?" she mumbles with that familiar brand of sarcasm. She sees the man move away from the wall, taking a few steps towards her, "Y’can’t sleep on that thing forever" he’d let her have her way, let her stay on it for the last few nights, but she couldn’t live like this. He offers out a hand to her, "…C’mon". Carol still doesn’t move from where she’s comfortably gathered herself in her little huddle in the corner, tired blue hues looking up at him questionably. "M’fine" she brushes it off as she casts her eyes back down over the couch, the blankets that wrap around her, shifting her feet underneath them. She flashes him a smile, maybe to try and prove she’s in her right mind and not as tired as she looks. Which of course, she is. And then some. His fingers flex, beckoning her up, "C’mon, Carol". He looks down at her with benevolent gaze, and really, she’s too tired to even argue with him. Her head rolls with her eyes as she drops her hand lazily into his with a defeated expression over her features, "Fine" she tones. He lifts her more than she picks herself up, the blanket draped over the side of the couch to the floor.

She can stand. But her hand still holds in his and he still has a supportive arm around her back; she can walk just fine, but she likes it in his warm, firm hold. And he likes to have her there. Already her eyes feel heavy, and it only takes a few steps for her legs to feel it too, before long she’s practically dragging herself across the living room to the door he leads her to. “Where’r you gonna sleep?” she murmurs, looking up at him with furrowed brows. His steps have slowed to accommodate hers, his vision flitting back down to her again; the height difference, it always gets him, as her delicate features look lazily up at him he can’t help but smile a little, “…I’m stayin’ in my bed still” he responds.

The door is carefully opened, he walks Carol in and sets her down on the side of the bed, stepping away momentarily to close the door again. As he turns back his steps are hurried to get to the side of the bed, lips unwittingly parting in another smile, “Carol-” the silver haired woman is already lying down, still fully clothed and over the top of the sheets. His hands find her shoulders as she tries to shake herself awake, drawing a deep breath and pinching her eyes closed and open again. “Sorry…” she murmurs feebly, eyes already feeling like lead, all she really wants to do at the moment is fold herself into the sheets and just  s l e e p. "Don’t be…" he mutters in response, "Y’can’t sleep like that" from her shoulders he starts to peel off the unnecessary layer of clothing. At least she isn’t wearing her jacket too, no, just another shirt over the top of her vest that he slips over her shoulders and lays on the end of the bed, even with her own hands getting in the way as she tries to do it herself, "…I got it" she mumbles as she doubles over, forcing him to shift back a bit from where he’s found himself knelt on the floor in the dark before her as she yanks her socks off. She’s still clothed, but there’s no need to ask her to remove anything else, that might be too far. Instead he rises to his feet, pulls back the sheets for her and lays them over her once she’s settled herself into the matress.

There is one thought, and one thought only, that rushes into Carol’s mind as her body finds the bed. It’s a bed, a real bed. Not a cot like in the prison, not a couch, good Lord it’s an actual bed. A sighed “Mmm” of contentment leaves her as she rolls over from her side to her back; no need to curl up in a bed big enough for two. She does have to shuffle her limbs a little as Phillip climbs in on the other side. “Y’know…” her mind is starting to drift into sleep and she’s only barely conscious of the words as thoughts, let alone as they leave her mouth lazily, “…What?” he asks as he fluffs his pillow, watching her vague silhouette in the dark. “I don’t remember the last time i slept in a bed…Oh my God…” Carol always seemed to have an ability to prompt a smile and a laugh out of him, and it’s no different at her slowly slurring words now, “Yeah?” he nods slightly as he rests his head on the pillow. “…Yeah" she sighs, wriggling down into the duvet, shuffling her head on the pillow, "Pillows, matress, decent blankets…I never wanna leave this bed…" she’s as good as gone now as her eyes ease shut, she’ll be out in a matter of seconds, but she still catches his murmur, the smile in the sound of his voice, "We’ll see what we can do about that"

  *  *  *

When her eyes open again it’s not for a good few hours at least. The sun beams down upon the little town outside, somewhat softened by the curtains that still hang over the windows. She’s moved around a fair bit in her sleep in seems, from lazily lying on her back she seems to have shifted to her side, looking at the glimmering light against the thin fabric of the drapes from where she lies with her head resting delightfully on the fresh, cool pillow. Carol stays like this a moment or two, simply allowing herself to revel in it; the little comforts of normal life that had to be abandoned, having her daughter back, having a better father figure for her than she’d ever been provided with, just indulging in it, if only for a moment. Fingers reach up to comb through her silver hair, mussed up and half on end she tries to flatten it down a little as she props herself up on her elbow. The remnants of sleep are drifting away from her, her body turning over in the sheets only to spy the rumpled bedding beside her and she can’t help but feel somewhat at a loss. A mere moment later she’s forgotten that she’s alone in the bed, because…Jesus…Is that…?

Phillip stands in the kitchen, pajama pants tied with a drawstring on his hips and a slightly worn out looking t-shirt thrown over the top, his patch sits on the counter top as he busies himself. But as he hears the shuffling in the other room his hand quickly snaps for it and throws it on. “Is that coffee?” a smile is already creeping onto her lips as she hovers in the doorway, clothes a little twisted and finger hesitantly pointing at him in the kitchen as the delicious aroma swirls through the air. A smile cracks onto his lips, “Jus’ a little instant” he shrugs, gaze hanging on her and her peaked interest with a hand resting on the counter top. “I take it y’want some?”

"Y’know i can’t remember the last time i had coffee, any kind of coffee" she muses as she moves across the apartment.

"That’s something else for the list then"

"Huh?"

"Y’said, last night, think y’must’ve been half-asleep, said y’couldn’t remember the last time y’slept in a real bed"

Carol lets out a chuckle, “I think i remember that”

"Bed, check. Coffee" he pushes a mug across the counter towards her before gathering his own, "Check. Now, anythin’ else i can help you with this mornin’?" Her lip curls under her teeth as she pulls the mug over to herself, letting the scented steam float up to her nose a few moments as he talks before she paws around the counter in search of cream and sugar. "Nope, i think this’ll do me just fine" a smile sweeps across her features as she adjusts the drink to her taste, the mans hand rests and lingers on her shoulder as he moves out of the kitchen, and her eyes rest on him as he goes. Languidly she stirs her coffee, soft blue hues tracing over him as he sits at the table with his coffee, scanning over a file of some sort. He can see her, out of the corner of his eye he spots her just watching him. Alright, he finds himself doing exactly the same thing to her, "What" he asks without looking up at her, smiling a little into his coffee. It doesn’t take her much by surprise, the woman remains there, lips turned down and brows raised as she shrugs, "Nothin’" with a smirk she picks up her coffee and heads to the table, "Just thinkin’, how good you’ve been to Sophia, how good you’re being to me, how long it’ll be before i get accustomed to this luxury" she teased, stepping behind him and placing a warmed hand atop his head as she moves round him, slim fingers ever so slightly toying with his hair as she does. He notices it all the same though, looking up at her as she moves to pull out a chair of her own; every movement is filled with grace, it doesn’t seem to matter what she does, her features elegantly coy as she peers over the brim of her mug across the table at him.