(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

[From here.]

Cloak goes behind the door. Book on the coffee table. Down the hall to check on Sunny.

One can always fall back on routine.

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[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Shoes in the closet. Button-down on a hanger. Back to the living room to check the door and the lamps.

The litany of habits is comforting.

[clumsy_auror]

Sunny's fine. Out like a light, exhausted after a long day of playing with her dad.

It takes her rather longer to brush her teeth than it usually does.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

There are a couple of pans he had left to soak in the sink, and he would normally leave them till the morning, but he attacks them now, instead.

Once he shuts the water off, the water's off in the bathroom, too, and he stops by there to brush his teeth, looking himself in the eyes.

[clumsy_auror]

She pulls on her pajamas and crawls under the covers, keeping to her side of the bed.

Kept to it last night, too.

Restless, itching for something to do with her hands and eyes, she picks up a magazine from the bedside table.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He hesitates outside the door.

Yes.

Yes.

Want to.

Want to need to have to--

And he's in, pulling off his socks and unbuckling his belt.

Perfectly normal.

Yes.

[clumsy_auror]

Perfectly.

She's blushing for no apparent reason, and pulls up the blankets a little more.

Then, because she can't not, she glances at him.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Good thing he's pulling his wifebeater over his head, or the combination of the blush and the glance would undo him. He pitches the shirt at the hamper, where it joins his trousers, and slides into bed beside his wife.

Fuck.

He sinks down into the covers in order to hide the fact that he's trembling like an underfed physics major at a drunken football rally.

[clumsy_auror]

Nymphadora bites her lip.

She's utterly incapable of concentrating on the magazine.

Shocking.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard debates: Left side, or right side? Left side, and he's toward her, but then he has to see her not turning to him. Right side, and he's away from her, and he's not sure that's the kind of message he wants to send either.

He can't sleep on his back.

[clumsy_auror]

Fighting is so bloody complicated.

Even when it's some sort of bizarre stalemate.

Finally, Nymphadora gives up the ghost and turns off the light, scooting down in the bed and burrowing under the covers.

She has to sleep on her side.

After a moment, she rolls toward him.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He holds his breath, biting his lip hard.

Then, he turns toward her, curling on his side, his hand slipping under the pillow.

[clumsy_auror]

This is so stupid.

There are some things that just shouldn't change, even when you fight.

Nymphadora draws in a short breath and closes her eyes, leaning in to kiss his cheek lightly. "Love you."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He agrees; he just wasn't sure if she wanted to hear it.

He jumps when her lips brush his cheek, and turns his head to kiss the corner of her mouth.

"I love you."

[clumsy_auror]

Her shoulders relax minutely, and when she pulls back, she doesn't pull back quite so far.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

His hand slips out from under the pillow, and he takes a breath.

Then he hesitantly touches his fingertips to hers.

[clumsy_auror]

A moment later, she loosely tangles their fingers together.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

The breath leaves him in a rush, and he turns his face into the pillow for a second.

[clumsy_auror]

Nymphadora squeezes his hand for a quick second, her eyes still closed.

"Sleep well."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"You, too," he replies, then hesitates.

He wants--

If she'd--

"Could you, um." He stops, unsure.

[clumsy_auror]

"--What? Change?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

A flinch. "No--"

Breathe, Bernard.

"No. Just. Turn over."

[clumsy_auror]

Nymphadora blinks into the darkness, confused and not a little hurt.

"...All right."

She disentangles her hand, and almost reluctantly turns away from him.

If he doesn't want to see her, then that's fine.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He hears the hurt in her voice, and it kills him because he did it without even thinking of it, or meaning to.

As soon as she's turned away, he curls close behind her, a hand on her belly, lips at her nape.

Hoping.

[clumsy_auror]

Oh.

Inordinately relieved, Nymphadora's eyes slip closed again, and her hand slides overtop of his, their fingers threading together again.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"I love you," he repeats with a tiny smile, and lets his eyes slide shut, turning his face into her hair.

Doesn't matter what color it is. It's hers.

[clumsy_auror]

"Love you too."

Sleep is still a little while in coming.

But it's easier, now.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard just lies there, listening to her breaths slow, deepen, and enjoying the feeling of just being near her again.

Seems like forever.

Once she's really asleep, he chances a soft kiss to the nape of her neck, and sighs, trying to relax.

He falls asleep almost by accident, and his dreams are, well. Not exactly pleasant. But better than they were.

And if they turn bad, she's there, now, to catch him.