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oom, doc's room upstairs, for kate
Even after ten years, not much has really changed about Doc's room. In the month since he's been back, he's moved a few things here and there, changed the sheets and blankets - no need for winter cover when it's a warm summer season, and so on - and added a good deal more books.
As Doc opens the room, he steps aside to let Kate in ahead of him. She's spent several nights here as well, over the last month. It's familiar territory.
Safe.
There's a few more shreds of that silk scarf on the bed, along with several other various cat toys that have been dragged out of theridiculously enormous basket near the couch and strewn over the cushion.
The desk is covered with a ledger and the pages full of his handwriting, neat and precise. A book of Shakespeare is on the bed, closed with a book marking a particular chapter he left off on.
He moves to open the windows, to let the cool summer night's air in, after he's shut and locked the door.
As Doc opens the room, he steps aside to let Kate in ahead of him. She's spent several nights here as well, over the last month. It's familiar territory.
Safe.
There's a few more shreds of that silk scarf on the bed, along with several other various cat toys that have been dragged out of the
The desk is covered with a ledger and the pages full of his handwriting, neat and precise. A book of Shakespeare is on the bed, closed with a book marking a particular chapter he left off on.
He moves to open the windows, to let the cool summer night's air in, after he's shut and locked the door.
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She takes a second to let her eyes adjust to the change in light, and then moves to where she kicked her boots off earlier. Quietly pulling out the desk chair, she works on slipping her boots on her feet.
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"Y'don't have'ta leave, y'know that," he murmurs. "I know y'ain't gonna stay, but...y'don't have to go."
His fingertips slide over the fur on Roz's back, prompting the kitten to stretch out.
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She gives both Roz and Goldie affectionate scritches, smirking a little when they start kneading and purring. Then, she turns her attention to Doc.
"Go back t'bed, Doc," she whispers, dragging a hand through his bedhead. "I'll see y'tomorrow."
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"I'll see you tomorrow, darlin'."
He doesn't want to watch her walk away, and eventually he'll have to get out of bed to lock the door - but until then, he'll keep his eyes closed.
(He also wants to avoid her seeing any hints of emotion in his eyes, to keep her from feeling guilty. He can play tired.)
Doc settles back down and drags the sheet over his waist a bit more, as a kitten flicks him in the face with a tail.
Love you.
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