Linger a Little Longer

Title: Linger a Little Longer
Time Period: Decemeber 30, 134 A.E.
Characters Appearing:

Summary: A lazy morning after that is, perhaps, indulged in a little more than it should be. They even miss breakfast!

The chill of a winter morning might collect frost along the edge of the window, but the room doesn't feel any of it. Not only because of the two warm bodies that shared the bed. The sun rises late at this time of year, but it's only just beginning to lighten the sky to a deep blue of pre-dawn.

Sprawled in the sheets, sleeping more comfortably than he probably has in months, Cas Blackburn breaths softly, with his mouth open slightly to show his surprisingly clean teeth, and his face pleasantly relaxed. No tension there. Freshly cut hair, shorter this time, and clean shaven face make him look young.

The stablehand's left arm is sprawled out above his head. Even before, it had sported the most distinctive of his scars, something like a rope burn on his wrist, now has a newer still healing wound. A cut from a recent fishing trip. The bandage is off, and it's healed to the point that it no longer needs one.

Mariah makes it a point of being the first awake, generally. Finding her awake and dressed is a decent deterrent to trying to continue the festivities, particularly for those who can't afford more of her time. It helps that she's not usually very comfortable, sharing a bed with another person.

So it's a little strange that she's slept in at all. But when she does wake up, stretching catlike under the sheets before she turns to glance at her companion for the night, she can't help but linger a little while there. Just a little while. Her hand reaches over to brush along his arm, a sort of half-hearted attempt to wake him. She does notice his scars and cuts, and she's careful not to let her touch drift too close to the latter.

For herself, while her skin is mostly smooth and pale, there are a few healing bruises here and there, and, of course, a pair of necklaces hanging around her neck. The one he gave her just the night before and another, longer one with a heavy iron bee pendant hanging from it. It's a simple leather strip, rather than a nice chain, but it's beloved all the same.

The slight brushing on his arm gets welcomed by movement. First in moving away, then in Cas' head shifting to the side. His breathing changes, and the warmth and softness of the bed against his skin starts to draw him out of his sleep more quickly than he'd probably like.

Odds are he's far more used to rougher sleeping conditions. And clothes on. All he's got on would be his own necklace, a simple leather strap with the cross pendant. The hand that had been on his chest moves, with his eyes still closed, touching the hand touching him, seeking out fingers. It's almost as if he's making sure the touch belongs to a person, before he squints his eyes open and tries to look around.

"Mmm morning," he manages in hoarse tones, sounding very much as if he might just close his eyes and fall right back asleep if he isn't careful.

"Morning," Mariah says with a smile as she moves to lay back down next to him. Her hand moves to entwine her fingers with his and there's a soft kiss pressed against his ear. "Fancy some breakfast?" By her tone, she's not much relishing the idea of getting out of bed. Her tone and the fact that she settles in against him and her eyes slide closed again, too.

"There's breakfast?" Cas says in a questioning tone, not quick to move himself. In fact he hand seems far more interested in her fingers than anything that might pass as food. And the kiss on his ear didn't help either.

A smile widens onto his cheeks, but it seems he's not awake enough to fall into his embarassment stages yet, as his eyes first watch where their fingers are entwined, then looks back to her. "Sleep well?" he asks in the same soft tones, but becoming more and more aware, even if he's in no hurry to move.

Not even for food.

"There could be breakfast," Mariah answers, a quiet laugh on her voice, "It would require a lot of moving and, possibly most importantly, dressing to acquire, however." And that would be regrettable, indeed. At least she isn't too sleepy for her playful tone to cut through.

"I slept remarkably well." Her free arm is used to prop her head up as she looks over at him, crooked smile on her lips, "I think I already know how you slept. I could have had a parade through here."

"I would've hated to have missed a whole parade," Cas says in that preoccupied way, moving their joined hands around as if he's not really sure what to do with them, but unwilling to let go. Instead he ends up drawing it to his face, so he can press his lips against her knuckles. It took a long time for the shyness to go away last night, and likely it's not entirely gone still.

"I kind of like the idea of breakfast like this…" he manages a tease, that makes him smile in that shy way he does even when he jokes. "But I like being here like this more." The teasing quality trails off as the entwined hands move to rest against his chest, almost as if he's hugging her hand there. "Wouldn't want to get crumbs in the bed."

The little kiss gets a smile, although Mariah chuckles at his words. "I'll save it for a better time, then." Her chuckle turns into a laugh as he teases back, and she shakes her head softly, "If only I had thought to arrange for it to be dropped off bed side this morning."

When he pulls their hands against his chest, she leans over to kiss his cheek. "That would be a great tragedy. Almost enough to drive one from the bed entirely."

"Softest bed I've been in in months," Cas admits in soft tones, shifting his legs a bit to feel the sheets against his skin. The kiss also keeps the shy smile in place, shifting to look up at her. "You have… really pretty eyes."

The compliment comes with a shifting of his hand, moving hers so the palm rests flat against his chest in the middle, and reaching up to brush stray hair off her forehead. The touch stops rather suddenly, and his head moves, almost as if he just realized something. It seems an equivelent to straightening— without actually sitting up. "Wait— better time— so you're okay with this happening again?" There's that shy awkwardness back in his voice.

"So do you, if you don't mind me saying so," Mariah says, her smile warm as she looks down at him. She even leans into that brush, but blinks in surprise as it cuts off. And his question, well, if gets a laugh out of her. Her head cants to the side, an amused sort of musing on her face. "Literally no one has ever asked me that question before."

But she looks back at him, her hand petting his chest softly. "I am, if you are."

"No one ever asks if you're okay with it?" Cas says in soft tones of surprise, shaking his head a little, as his finger trails down the side of her face and over the line of her lips. "I like when you laugh, too," he adds on as an aside, deflecting her compliment of him— or at least ignoring that she gave it.

The fingers slide down her neck next, touching the chain he gave her, which she made seem more and more like a gift and less like anything else through the night, before touching the leather strap, gathering it up in his fingers until he touches the heavy iron bee.

"What's the bee for?"

"I suppose it's implied," Mariah says with a gentle shrug, "in the exchange." But his touch brings her attention back to his face and a smile back to her lips. "Do you, now?" she replies to the compliment with playful curve in that smile. "Well, thank you, Mister Blackburn."

She doesn't seem to mind him picking up the pendant, but when he asks about it, her smile turns a little sad. Wistful. "It was my mother's. She believed iron would ward off things, you know. Superstitious, a bit. But she wore it everyday. Or something like it."

"Not sure you can call it superstitions when— you know— they're real. Dragons and fairies and selkies and… men who turn into polarbears," Cas says quietly, turning the bee in his fingers a little. The sadness in her eyes makes him look at her more than the bee, but he can see by feeling.

"I thought maybe it was a bee cause you're sweet— like honey and all. Where there's bees there's honey and all." His smile is awkward still, but his words seem legitimate. "I guess your mom was sweet too." That is a little more serious.

"Well, sure, they're real, but have you ever heard of a bit of iron stopping anything? I always figured, it just made her feel safer, having it around, even if it was a bit of false security. This one, she said it survived, you know? The end of the world. And passed down through her family. I'm not sure if it's true, but I like to think it is." Mariah looks up from the bee to catch him looking at her, and she just looks back at him for a moment before she remembers to smile again.

"Bees also have stingers, you know," she says, teasing again. "Which might be a good way to describe her. Sweet, but she did have a sting. And she was very beautiful. Which has nothing whatsoever to do with bees or honey." And she might be the one rambling this time around.

"My family had a copy of the bible," Cas says softly, motioning to his cross near her hand as if to indicate part of why that was even in his possession. "That always struck me as superstitious too. Though I also like to think my sister's cross protected me on my trip." Even if, from a grimace, it may not have protected him all the time.

Ended up here, though. At least there's that.

"Tell me about your mom? Did you get your pretty eyes from her? Your hair— your nose… your lips?" With each attribute he gestures and touches, paying extra attention to her lips when he gets to the end.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it helped. But I think, maybe because of your sister rather than the religion behind that symbol. I feel the same about mine." Mariah's fingers brush over his cross, lingering there for a moment before she looks up at him again with a slight smile. "How did we get on such serious topics?" The question might indicate that her usual clientele doesn't do that, either.

"Well, she was French. My father reportedly fell madly in love with her at first sight, married her and brought her back to England in a matter of weeks. She was highly educated, too. I'm not sure why, but she had a passion for it. And I could speak on the topic better if you were being thoroughly distracting," she says with a wide smile before she leans down to kiss him.

Speaking of thoroughly distracting— as soon as her lips touch his, Cas seems to melt against them. His hand seeks out her neck, actually holding her in place gently as he leans upward as well. It deepens much faster than the first one, hieghtening quicker, but maintaining the gentleness, even with the grip.

When it breaks, his voice is breathless, "What were we talking about again?" After a moment, he recalls, "Oh, right— your mom sounds like a wonderful woman. I always had a thing for women with education. Probably because mine was…" His head shifts around, letting that trail off. "I did remember she was French— and you speak it. I liked the way it sounded, even if I didn't know what you were saying."

Mariah melts into it as well, and her hand moves up to cup his cheek, her touch matching that gentleness. She even seems reluctant to pull away, so there at the end, she doesn't actually go very far.

"I like the way it sounds, too. And I also like that people don't know what I'm saying often," she admits with a chuckle. "Can't imagine the things you get away with. It's criminal, really."

"Say something," Cas says, eyes looking up at her a lot more awake now than they were a few moments ago, but… not wide. Just aware. "Say anything," he repeats, smile tugging on the corner of his mouth and making the dimple on one side visible as he leans up to kiss her again, ever so lightly.

It would be difficult fo rher to do what he requested if that keeps up, though, so he falls back against the pillow again.

There's a slight chuckle through that kiss, although not enough to detract from it. She even kisses him once more before actually filling that request. And as she does, her hand lifts to run thought his hair and she looks down at him with a soft smile. "Je sais que j'ai a vous donner en retour," she speaks in a gentle whisper, but all the same, it's a voice that's hard not to listen to, "mais je l'aime beaucoup quand certains vous etes ici."

She doesn't offer a translation, but she presses a kiss to his cheek this time, before she lays back down, half on his chest, half on the bed with her arm draped across him.

A few seconds ago he was wide awake, but asking her to talk may have been a mistake on his part. Cas can't help but listen to each sound, whether he knows what it means or not, and his eyes slowly close, breathing slowing as his hand returns to hers, resting against him.

"This is a good way to end the year… even if a few days early," he says tiredly, voice whispered and soft. "Glad I didn't… talk myself out…" whatever he might have said next trails off, perhaps because he's falling right back asleep.

As he starts to fall asleep again, Mariah can't help but laugh softly. And while she probably should wake him up and get them both moving, she opts to linger, instead. Her fingers brush through his hair in a way that encourages the dozing off and she hums something quiet and slow there against his shoulder.

Chances are she won't sleep again herself, but she doesn't seem to mind that, either.