Post by Shikai on Jun 26, 2009 21:56:15 GMT -5
((SOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! But here's the thread, several months late. ^^;))
As Eravrael’s eyes flickered groggily open, his first thoughts were that he was obviously not in the candidate’s barracks. No, the room was far nicer…a private weyr, surely…and there was something else large and warm on the other side of the bed. Oh, well that was nothing new. He felt sleepily around his head for the bronze firelizard he had long grown accustomed to sleeping at his neck or curled up somewhere near his head, but Othello, to his surprise, was not there. Then he heard the sleepily, utterly contented and proud croon from the firelizard, and his half-asleep mind finally pieced together the rest of the pieces.
Eravrael stretched, eyes searching the weyr until he found the source of the sound, and saw Othello watching him with half-lidded eyes, just awoken from where he had been sleeping beside Majesty. Eravrael rolled over, subconsciously moving to wrap his arm over S’lem beside him, as perhaps seeing Othello snuggled up as he was made Eravrael want to do the same. But he withdrew his arm as his green eyes, slowly becoming more alert and thoughtful as he awoke, looked over the other man. True, S’lem was a bluerider, and he hadn’t seemed too opposed to being together earlier (although Eravrael wasn’t used to opposition to that, especially during flitter flights), it was after the passion of the moment had died down that he tended to hit a snag.
His eyes scanned the floor, locating his clothes, and he debated whether it would be best for him to simply leave before S’lem awoke. There was no risk of rejection or disgust then, although Eravrael was somewhat accustomed to it by then, and though it did sting a bit, he could shrug it off soon enough and move on to someone else. Besides, candidates weren’t supposed to have relationships. Even if S’lem was interested in further contact, it would be irresponsible to pursue it…granted, it wouldn’t take much to persuade Eravrael to bend that rule. A bit of affection or acceptance, and he would give in entirely, as he always did. But maybe he shouldn’t, especially now…he shouldn’t risk his candidacy. His sister wouldn’t have wanted him to mess that up, not when he finally had a chance at something so great…
But he would do it anyway, if S’lem had the chance to ask, and Eravrael knew that. So perhaps it would be best to leave before S’lem either rejected him or did the opposite, and it was hard to say which would be worse in the long term…but the bed was just so comfortable, and it was so nice to be able to lay there with someone, even someone he didn’t know (nothing unusual for Eravrael) without anyone hassling him to get up and do chores. That was Eravrael, thinking through the consequences, deciding what would be best, and then declining to take action anyway. So for the moment, he did nothing.
As Eravrael’s eyes flickered groggily open, his first thoughts were that he was obviously not in the candidate’s barracks. No, the room was far nicer…a private weyr, surely…and there was something else large and warm on the other side of the bed. Oh, well that was nothing new. He felt sleepily around his head for the bronze firelizard he had long grown accustomed to sleeping at his neck or curled up somewhere near his head, but Othello, to his surprise, was not there. Then he heard the sleepily, utterly contented and proud croon from the firelizard, and his half-asleep mind finally pieced together the rest of the pieces.
Eravrael stretched, eyes searching the weyr until he found the source of the sound, and saw Othello watching him with half-lidded eyes, just awoken from where he had been sleeping beside Majesty. Eravrael rolled over, subconsciously moving to wrap his arm over S’lem beside him, as perhaps seeing Othello snuggled up as he was made Eravrael want to do the same. But he withdrew his arm as his green eyes, slowly becoming more alert and thoughtful as he awoke, looked over the other man. True, S’lem was a bluerider, and he hadn’t seemed too opposed to being together earlier (although Eravrael wasn’t used to opposition to that, especially during flitter flights), it was after the passion of the moment had died down that he tended to hit a snag.
His eyes scanned the floor, locating his clothes, and he debated whether it would be best for him to simply leave before S’lem awoke. There was no risk of rejection or disgust then, although Eravrael was somewhat accustomed to it by then, and though it did sting a bit, he could shrug it off soon enough and move on to someone else. Besides, candidates weren’t supposed to have relationships. Even if S’lem was interested in further contact, it would be irresponsible to pursue it…granted, it wouldn’t take much to persuade Eravrael to bend that rule. A bit of affection or acceptance, and he would give in entirely, as he always did. But maybe he shouldn’t, especially now…he shouldn’t risk his candidacy. His sister wouldn’t have wanted him to mess that up, not when he finally had a chance at something so great…
But he would do it anyway, if S’lem had the chance to ask, and Eravrael knew that. So perhaps it would be best to leave before S’lem either rejected him or did the opposite, and it was hard to say which would be worse in the long term…but the bed was just so comfortable, and it was so nice to be able to lay there with someone, even someone he didn’t know (nothing unusual for Eravrael) without anyone hassling him to get up and do chores. That was Eravrael, thinking through the consequences, deciding what would be best, and then declining to take action anyway. So for the moment, he did nothing.