"You won't forget about me, right?"
"What? No!" He scoffed. "I could never. Not you and your spontaneous singing."
She chuckled and looked up to him. Dark circles sat beneath her eyes like pools of all the shadows in her past.
"Why don't we go back to Ivy's and you can sleep some more?"
The light had gotten too annoying so she switched to lighting the paper with a flashlight clentched in her teeth and the natural moonlight to light up the room. Weird? Yes. Normal for her? Also yes.
She nodded gently into his chest as he began to find his way back to her house. He went in through the still open window. "Ivy?"
"Shh. Don't interrupt the artist." She mumbled around the flashlight, still sketching the room. "And you're blocking my light."
He chuckled. "Right sorry." He gently placed Amelia on the bed who had seemingly fallen asleep in his arms on the way there.
She placed the finishing touches on the basic foundation lines and took the flashlight out of her mouth. "So I see you've returned with our runaway."
"Yeah." He watched as she finished the drawing. " Hey, look, I'm sorry about what she said earlier." He began to float a little high not wanting to touch the ground yet. "It's not true, I hope you know that. I mean, I just. Yeah. It's not true."
"Are you saying that because it's actually not true or because you don't want me to believe it?"
"What?" He looked down to her as he continued to float up. It wasn't intentional, he just wasn't paying attention. "No, it's not true. I promise. I wouldn't do that to you."
She smiled a little, glad her fears were put to rest. "Then will you stop floating away from me and come down here?"
"I, uh, would. The only problem is that once I touch the ground I'll either pass out or be on the brink of doing so."
"There's a bed literally right here. Get some sleep. You need it."
"Right then. Okay." He sighed a little as he floated down. "I love you, Ivy." He landed gently on the bed, a brief shock of pain going through him before the world went dark.
She smiled a little. "I love you too." She knew he couldn't hear her but she said it anyway. She knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep so she decided to draw him, he looked so cute, she had to.
Somehow, even as he slept, pain seemed to flow through his veins. Then again, if he were awake, he'd feel it ten times worse.
She kept quiet and just drew silently, capturing each emotion and feeling she could see in a mirror image.
He never seemed to dream when he passed out from flying. It was just constant pain and darkness. Not that having a dream would be any better. Then again, nor would it be worse.
The foundation lines were the hardest part, in her opinion. Inking was the easiest. But she didn't rush, you couldn't rush perfection in her eyes.
(Shall we skip to the morning when he wakes up?)
(Sure!)
Morning light peeked through the curtains and the room was still, her drawing had taken all night but she had managed to finish it, resting it on her easal. When was the last time she'd actually had a good night's sleep? She couldn't remember. amy (the most wonderful woman in the world)'s going to kill me for pulling another all-nighter. She sighed quietly.
The light in the room brought him closer to reality with more pain. His eyes fluttered open, and a groan escaped his lips. For a moments, the room just just light and he felt no pain. Very quickly, the pain found it's way back into his veins and the room around him formed.
She closed the curtains silently, giving no allusion that she was even there. Her footsteps were light as she slowly padded out of the room, closing the door behind her.
By the time his eyes opened fully, she was gone. He looked around a bit in search of her, buy didn't find her. He sat up, grunting a little. "Ow…"
She heard him and waltzed back in. "Hey honey, need some painkillers?" She whispered.
He looked to her and nodded. He felt like he had been lit on fire the night before. Only bad part of flying.