Here is the promised continuation of Christine and Stephen's date. So to speak.
Dammit, Christine, stop taking over my chapters with your appreciations of Stephen's hair! This isn't even the first time. (Nor will it be the last, I am just saying.)
I am still not Marvel.
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Christine opened her eyes slowly. She had been sleeping alone ever since she broke up with Daniel (ages ago) - who was only really a rebound after Stephen anyway - so the warm body next to her in the bed was a surprise. She opened her eyes quickly as she caught up with her own thoughts. Stephen.
Stephen who was still sleeping peacefully next to her. There was some light coming into the room, but only very little as the closed, heavy curtains did their job, so she wondered what it was that had awakened her. The next moment this question answered itself, and she recognised a hiss from outside to be in Elice's voice. "Crimson! Leave Stephen and Christine alone! Christine is not hurting him, we both know that, so you can let her borrow him for a bit longer, it is only polite! You're being rude even for an overgrown dishcloth, nevermind a wise artifact!"
Christine buried her head into her pillow to muffle her laughter, but apparently this sort of harsh protest worked on Stephen's cloak (clearly acting more like a really stubborn cat at the moment), because the hallway silenced again.
When she managed to calm down, Christine looked over at Stephen. His sleep had not been disturbed - she wasn't surprised, the cloak swivelling around while he slept must be a very regular occurence - and he was lying peacefully on his side, his hand resting gently against the bedclothes, as if he was touching something alive, his fingers twitching every now again, a movement distinctly distinguishable from the regular shaking.
Finding that utterly sweet and charming, Christine let her eyes drift up to Stephen's unruly hair and his only half visible face. She blushed lightly, remembering how she had all but attacked him last night, kissing him instead of accepting a drink in the library. She hadn't wanted to talk, she had wanted something else, and after startling briefly Stephen had been only too willing to give in, letting her lead. He had always had too much ego to be so good of a listener, before. Christine smiled softly for herself. If you used listener in a very wide sense, that was.
Needless to say, the rest of the evening had been very satisfying. For both of them, she hoped. She smiled for herself. It had certainly seemed so. And she was certain this new Stephen was even less likely than the old one to let anyone bully him into doing things he didn't fancy doing. And that had never been something you had to worry a lot about with him. Or at all.
Not that the beginning of their evening hadn't been nice enough, also, Christine pondered as she reached out a hand and stroked Stephen's unruly hair. He didn't stir, just mumbled softly for himself. They'd had dinner in front of a live fire in the living room, Stephen seemingly having taken care to select all her favourite dishes.
They'd talked for almost an hour after they'd eaten, only interruped by the cloak's attempts to get Stephen's attention like a very red version of a playful labrador, until Christine had taken pity on it - Stephen was ignoring it favour of talking to her, but she could see that he didn't want to - and they'd honest-to-god played catch with it in the living room. Then Stephen had asked it to check up on Elice and offered her drinks in the library. And the rest, as they said, was history.
Burrowing more deeply into the warm, soft bedsheets, Christine smiled for herself. Stephen had been so foolish when he thought himself a charity case. She wanted this so much. Wanted him so much. Espcially now, with this new, listening, feeling, wise Stephen. Turning to better be able to watch him, she mentally waved away all concern that her gazing was creepy. He had willingly invited her into his bed, that had to count as permission.
Honestly, he was just so watchable. There was no way you could be this close and not watch him sleep.
With that last excuse, Christine stopped thinking and just stared her fill for the rest of the morning, up until the cloak finally disturbed the peace by swooshing in and rudely awakening Stephen, thus putting a stop to her new(ish) favourite past-time.