Moment 010: Awakening

For Piper, waking up is normally a slow process; a gradual shift from completely ignoring the input provided by her senses to picking them up one by one until she's both awake and alert. Today, however, the first cognizant breath she takes is filled with a scent so familiar that she practically spits her brain out of her ears in her haste to wake up, because she most assuredly did not fall asleep with her head on an all too comfortable shoulder. Or with an arm wrapped around someone.

Damn it. Very cautiously, she cracks one eye open and rolls it upwards; seeking out the familiar profile in the barely-there light of an early morning.

Sound asleep. Piper takes a breath, and can't quite decide if she's relieved or disappointed. There's a fuzzy little film playing in her head; a phantom press of Blue's hand between her shoulders, darkness, and the soft click of a safety being taken off. It could be either a dream or a half-asleep memory, but she wouldn't be surprised to learn that her friend is a light enough sleeper to have heard something in the distance, deep into the night.

That taken into consideration, it is with extreme care that Piper slowly extracts herself; shivering at the chilly air outside the warmth of their makeshift bed, and wishing idly for a nice, thick sweater as she crouches by the haphazard fireplace and sets about bringing it back to life.

Cuddling up to a bedmate is normal, and she knows that. Her bedroom in Diamond City – though she'll only ever admit to it under duress – counts an old, ragged teddy bear among its occupants; one that starts the night to the right of Piper's pillow, and yet somehow always ends up in her arms by morning. So really, her waking up practically curled around Blue is anything but surprising, and given her friend's overall nature, she probably wouldn't bat an eye if she knew.

Not that Piper is planning on telling her, regardless. If she did, she has a feeling that she'd also end up admitting that this is probably the best night's sleep she's had in ages, and knowing Blue, she'd offer to make it a permanent arrangement because that's just the kind of friend she is.

Piper doesn't want that offer. Mainly because she isn't sure that she'll be able to turn it down.

The fire flares to life in what's probably a lot less time than it feels like, and Piper warms her hands back up by touching them to the side of the pot now because it won't be long before doing that will be a very bad idea. So she listens to the low crackle and roots quietly through their bags; freeing a few things they can combine into an on-the-go type breakfast, and only becoming somewhat distracted when even this low level of noise causes a long, audible inhalation behind her, followed by the shifting of fabric and a soft grunt of the kind she normally makes herself when stretching.

Definitely a light sleeper.

"Morning, Blue," she offers without turning, and is glad that her voice isn't quaking.

"Rrrrmgh," is the response, followed by a yawn that's soft enough to almost be a sigh. "Buh."

In spite of herself, Piper chuckles as she finds the rinsed pot from last sight and sets it over the fire. Blue, she's starting to realize, wakes up in one of two ways; she is either completely alert and ready for anything from the moment her eyes flutter open, or she's the exact opposite; struggling to even see daylight – though, really, there isn't much of it available right now anyway - and having a very obvious, internal argument where she's trying to convince herself to get up in the first place, rather than simply go back to sleep.

This is the clearly the second, and Piper fishes a gumdrop from her pocket and slips it between the long fingers that are just barely resting outside the sleeping bag because hopefully the sugar will help. And her heart, she tells herself firmly, does not give a little flutter when the pads of those fingers brush over the inside of her own; warm from sleep and newly familiar, and so, so gentle in spite of how deadly this woman can be.

Jesus. All Blue is doing is taking the damn gumdrop.

"Morning." The burred, delayed response thankfully pulls her from her thoughts, and the piece of candy is held up between two fingers before being slipped into Blue's mouth. "Fanksh."

"Sure." She focuses back on the pot; slipping what she's dug out into it and finding the spatula they used last night to move it around. Behind her, there's the subtle sound of a shifting body, and she chances a curious glance over one shoulder to see that Blue is resting on her side now. Facing her, with her head pillowed on one curled arm and her eyes halfway open and warm as she watches her in the half-light; like she's just happy that Piper is there.

God, those eyes. Dimly, she remembers the fist time she saw them, on that day where she was so close to breaking down in hysterics and Blue just showed up and became the perfect aid; puzzled though she clearly was by the whole thing (What? Who are you?). She remembers thinking how unusually clear and bright their color was, how deep in them that undeniable spark of intelligence ran; intelligence that she has now learned is better termed brilliance, because Blue, it seems, can teach herself anything just by reading a book.

Piper has seen every look those eyes can have. She has seen them dim with pain or sorrow, sharpen with anger or interest, soften with sympathy or kindness, and narrow with confusion or calculation. Mostly, she's seen them turned her way; a little dark with uncertainty, back in the earliest days, but steadily warming with genuine affection until this look – this moment – that makes her head feel hot and her body flash warm all over; the flippant words she was finding sticking tightly in her throat and forcing her to turn away to just be able to think.

Beautiful. Dangerous. Tempting, to the point where every cell in her body itches to crawl back into that old, worn sleeping bag; to sink into the peace of that somnolent embrace and never leave.

Which means, she decides with a slight frown out of the broken window and towards the brightening horizon, that she's in trouble. More so than she originally thought.

Blue, she guesses by the new shuffle of fabric behind her, is getting up, and Piper's heart is pounding against the inside of her ribs while she tries to remember how to breathe.

Shit.