[To the contrary of the woman who has kept him company this night, Rip quite often does have difficulty resting--particularly when some problem nags at his mind. Truth be told he hadn't expected to sleep at all beyond perhaps a light doze, when exhaustion and alcohol made the words of his book blur and he simply drifted away without realizing it. And something like that had happened last night: he'd lain awake a bit longer after they whispered their good nights, listened to the sound of Peggy's breathing, matched his own to her cadence before at last dropping off.
It had been pleasant, if he's honest with himself. A satisfaction he hadn't even dreamed he might find again, either in his own universe or this one. But one seemingly short-lived, as day comes and with it, Peggy stirs and decides to attempt a daring escape.
Problem is, any kindness provided by the alcohol has long since passed. She jostles his head with such care, but it's enough. Explosions go off behind his eyes, and without opening them Rip grumbles his lack of appreciation despite how gentle she is.
Even that slight pressure sets off the angry beat of drums.]
Would you hold bloody still? [Oh, but speaking is not wise; Rip hisses just after the words slip out, pressing a hand to his face, grimacing at the cotton that's filled his mouth. The curse that follows after is more softly spoken, but the damage has been done--and in spades if the rather pitiful groan that follows is any indication.]
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It had been pleasant, if he's honest with himself. A satisfaction he hadn't even dreamed he might find again, either in his own universe or this one. But one seemingly short-lived, as day comes and with it, Peggy stirs and decides to attempt a daring escape.
Problem is, any kindness provided by the alcohol has long since passed. She jostles his head with such care, but it's enough. Explosions go off behind his eyes, and without opening them Rip grumbles his lack of appreciation despite how gentle she is.
Even that slight pressure sets off the angry beat of drums.]
Would you hold bloody still? [Oh, but speaking is not wise; Rip hisses just after the words slip out, pressing a hand to his face, grimacing at the cotton that's filled his mouth. The curse that follows after is more softly spoken, but the damage has been done--and in spades if the rather pitiful groan that follows is any indication.]