ArchivedLogs:Just Rest

Just Rest
Dramatis Personae Hive, Melinda
In Absentia	2014-11-11 Touches briefly on Future Past tp.
Location <NYC> The Unicomplex - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
Flicker and Hive split the basement in this apartment; coming down the stairs emerges into an open expanse of shared space, with a pair of desks on opposite walls and large cabinets holding an enormous library of board and card games. The bookshelves here are packed predominantly with sci-fi and fantasy as well as a mass of roleplaying sourcebooks. The walls are eclectically decorated. A replica of Arya Stark's Needle, a few bright-colored but anachronistically somewhat morbid paintings of Jax's, a Mega Man X poster, a stained-glass suncatcher hung in the window and a collage of feathers framed on one wall. Up near the ceiling there's a large square hanging frame strung with netting -- a nearly ceiling-wide sort of hammock though it's hard to immediately discern how to access it. A side door leads to the bathroom, small but neat in pale stone tile. Towards the back there are walls dividing off the actual sleeping areas, tiny-cosy rooms mostly only large enough for the bed-dresser-closet combinations they contain. It's generally easy to figure out which one of the bedrooms is Hive's from the large amount of /clutter/ contrasting Flicker's perpetually tidy space. Flicker's full bed can be folded up into a recess in the wall, while Hive's larger queen hangs from the ceiling by sturdy black chains. The basement here is filled with music. At the moment Our Lady Peace's "Thief", though in all honesty this is not actually thematic on Hive's part; just a playlist on random that is heavy on nineties alt rock. Hive, in jeans and barefeet and Aperture Science track jacket over his blue hedgehog shirt, is at his computer -- he's been working, that is clear from the designs up half-finished on his screen, but he's not, now. At the moment instead, he's hunched over, heels of his hands digging into his eyes, shoulders tight-tense, breathing a little bit ragged though he's trying to force it slower and calmer. His mind is a little bit more awake than it has been in weeks past, still not in top form but picking up here and there on stronger surface-level thoughts and feelings. Melinda knocks lightly at the door. The sound of music beyond makes her wonder if she knocked loudly enough and she pauses, mostly to be polite instead of insistent. She's come directly from work - another long day in the food service industry - rather than heading hope to pick up her daughter first. Tove's been trying to get through her thick skull that she needs some off time from the work-motherhood combination, but she's also just misses Hive sometimes and the prospect of not having him in the near future is nagging. She takes a deep breath and straightens the boring white button down she wears for work over the black skinny jeans that are tucked into a pair of low heeled boots, and fidgets for a moment longer before raising her hand to knock again. "Hnngh," is quiet and gruff behind the door, just a muffled nothing-sound as Hive flinches at the sound of the knock. Maybe he should answer it, but -- doesn't, hands grinding harder against his eyes and his shoulders tightening in further. Melinda is... too curious/worried to just let it go. She heads into the basement at large when she thinks she hears the grumble mixed in with the music, hanging back a step or two. She isn't /really/ sure what she is going to see when she gets in there, a few dark thoughts popping up - fear that the noise might mean a medical emergency - but mostly she just expects him to be stuck in a seated position and in too much pain to move. She sets down her bag and kicks off her boots as she moves across the room. "Hey." "Hnngh," Hive says again, though this time he moves his hands from his eyes. And immediately scrunches his eyes back up tight, reluctant to /keep/ them open. "Oh, god." This isn't exactly directed at Mel, just a small whimper as he turns his chair a little bit more towards her. He leans against his desk, head propped in his hand. "... huh. Evening already?" His words come out through gritted teeth. Melinda frowns at his expression and posture, turning instead to the light switch to turn off the light. She's familiar enough with the room to not have too many problems, and the light from the computer screen helps too. She returns to his side and drops to one knee to be closer to his sitting height. "Yeah. Evening. Pretty much night this time of year. Not sure I see the sun on days where I work. How're you?" "Don't. Know where the day... fucking..." Hive slumps more forward, resting his forehead against Mel's shoulder. His own shoulders have relaxed a little with the darkening of the room. "Sunlamps. Help." He exhales a sharp snort. "-- With winter. Not fucking headaches." "Yeah... We have sunlamps around the apartment for Tola now. I get my vitamin D, but there's something more rewarding about the actual sun." Melinda speaks softly and presses a kiss to his temple after she finishes, her hands rubbing at his back, gentle but firm. "Ohhhh." Hive's breathing slows, still a little strained but gradually easing under the backrub. "Flicker dreamed about Tola last night..." This sounds wistful. A little pained. "Bigger. Cute as a fucking bug. I -- eavesdropped." He sounds a little bit guilty, shoulders tightening back up. "Nice dream." "Eaves... dropped?" Melinda's mind reels for a moment. She remembers the dream as well, but the fact that he saw it warms something in her heart. She inhales deeply and moves to actually stand behind him, beginning to give him a real backrub. "The costume was adorable. I have... no idea how I'm going to make it. I guess I have a couple years to get started." She presses a kiss to the back of his head and exhales. "Glad you were there. Didn't know you... could." "Dusk and Micah both sew like pros. Could. Teach you, I guess." Hive's head shakes, knuckles pressing against his eyes again. "Couldn't sleep. Last night. Listened to him sleep instead. Guess that's some kind of creepy fucking -- stalker-romance-movie shit but. It was nice. So many nightmares usually." A shiver passes through him. "Glad I was. There. Too, though. Since I -- won't..." But he doesn't finish this, breath rasping inward again. Melinda leans in closer and wraps her arms around Hive's torso, a swell of sadness within her. "I know. I'm kind of ... well, hoping there'll be more dreams. You know, a chance to see more, even if it is vague and fast forward." She sniffles and squeezes before pulling back and continues the massage. "Now I'm just going to wait for Micah to open up stock options in his business so I can invest." Hive just slumps against Mel. Eyes closed, arm slowly lifting to curl around her. "You had the dream too, then." He's slow to catch up. "People keep. Thinking they're... predictions but. They can't... we had one. He and I. But I was. You know. There." "There there?" Mel's a bit confused by this. "But the doctors said..." She draws in a deep breath, hand pause and then turns to grasp Hive's arms, staying close. She turns the information over in her mind, unable to quite grasp it. "I mean, I..." The sharp flash of hope is hardest to experience and she pushes it away as quickly as possible. "How does that work?" Hive's arm tightens around her, his head shaking. "I don't know. Maybe the dreams just. Aren't right. Maybe it's not the future. It can't be the future." His voice is a little choked. "... Tola's /definitely/ gonna be fucking adorable, though. But that's not. Hard to predict." "No. She's pretty much stuck being adorable for a number of years. We... can reassess when she's a teenager." Mel catches herself on the collective pronouns but continues anyway. "Yeah. I don't know what to do with the dreams. I seemed very comfortable with them in the dream, but awake? I'm not so sure." Hive doesn't answer this immediately. He turns his face in against Melinda's shirt, fingers curling tight to grip at the fabric. His eyes squeeze shut, tears slowly leaking from them. "Are you mad?" He finally asks this, soft and uncertain. "At me." Melinda shuffles around the side of his chair to make the hug more comfortable. "No. I'm not mad at you." She remembers some of the things she's felt when they were connected. She hates the pain he's been through and just wants that to end for him, but can't handle the thought of losing him. "I love you." "Micah was just. Talking about -- about trying /other/ options and -- but I don't." Hive has to swallow a thick lump in his throat before finishing. "... want to. I just want." His head shakes against her shoulder. "Just. Tired. I --" He lifts his head, opening his glistening eyes to look up at her. "Love you. Too." "You're the one who has to go through the hardest part of this. It's going to be your decision in the end. If you're tired, love... just." Mel inhales against a lump of her own throat. "Just rest, love." She moves her hands to cradle either side of his face before leaning in to kiss his lips lightly, salt seasoning the contact. Hive's hand is trembling where it presses to Mel's back, fingers drawn up between her shoulderblades. He returns the kiss, gentle, but lingering, his forehead pressing to hers afterward. His hand lifts to cup the back of her neck, tears sliding down his cheeks now in silence.