"...fine," Steve grumbles, and carefully pushes down the marveling at that.
He doesn't have time to pause and reflect at every single little thing that
reminds him of how it used to be, like a starry eyed idiot. He has to deal
with what's here, what's real, what's in front of both of them.
He supposes he could try to sleep.
He flicks off the lamp, and places the magazine on the night stand. There's
enough dim light through the shuttered window that he can still see a
little. He makes himself comfortable, the bed springs squeaking softly
under him, and closes his eyes.
no subject
"...fine," Steve grumbles, and carefully pushes down the marveling at that. He doesn't have time to pause and reflect at every single little thing that reminds him of how it used to be, like a starry eyed idiot. He has to deal with what's here, what's real, what's in front of both of them.
He supposes he could try to sleep.
He flicks off the lamp, and places the magazine on the night stand. There's enough dim light through the shuttered window that he can still see a little. He makes himself comfortable, the bed springs squeaking softly under him, and closes his eyes.