[[ crater-bound, diablo ]]

[almosthonorable]

whitetextiswhite

[ cowboys and russians ]


The fourth morning, Ben's awake well before dawn. Despite the hour, he's downright jovial from a night spent in an actual bed and the chance to wash away the dust from the trail.

(Of course, sharing that bed with Esfir's no hardship.)

They've still got a twelve-mile ride ahead of them, but he doesn't wake her just yet; the pads of his fingers are stroking the back of her neck in a steady, featherlight rhythm.

Comments

[almosthonorable]

"Turns out I like just you, Fira, so you ain't gonna find any pedestal."

He pauses.

"Didn't know I was makin' you uncomfortable."

[aimedforthemoon]

"Coat on ground is uncomfortable. Doors if it is obvious, but not always. It. Not uncomfortable all the time. Sometimes, nice. But, not...not as a habit. Um. I mean, sometimes nice. But all time, no."

Beat.

"You...understand that?"

[almosthonorable]

"Mostly."

A beat.

"But I'm tryin' to work out how me not wantin' you to get the ass of your pants dirty on the desert floor makes you uncomfortable."

[aimedforthemoon]

"I-"

She regards him, and then the crater's floor.

"I'll explain later. It's. Complicated."

[almosthonorable]

He opens his mouth.

Closes it.

And wraps an arm around her shoulders.

(It's a wise man who knows when to press an issue and when to hold his tongue.)

A breeze kicks up, drying the sweat collecting beneath the brim of his hat, and he's content to study this hole in the ground crater with her for as long as she wants.