Allison is left there, oddly enough, to reach up and rub her face, while Luther's steps get further and further away. Not certain if she's trying to rub more awakeness into her face, and herself, or if it's just because she's tired, or because that was a bit awkward. Which hadn't been the point either.
Allison picked up a pillow and scooted back to the headboard, a little grateful she didn't have to worry about making the bed she'd never even unmade, only dropped on top of. She put the pillow in her lap and flattened her fingers on the soft fluff as she let herself lean back and waited. The dark silence of the house that was stillness. Five and Diego likely long gone to bed, too. The rest of the near-empty house spread out in the space beyond her door. Where Luther was.
She didn't regret saying it. She told herself that twice, as she dug her fingertips a little into the pillow waiting, trying not to give any court to the idea Luther might take as long as he could if he really had been looking for any reason to go once stepping in. It wasn't exhaustion. It wasn't a mistake. She still meant it. It still changed nothing. But that was a lie, too. Because somehow it loosened something inside her, too. Something she hadn't even realized until she saw what it was to not have it.
Allison closed her eyes briefly. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Until those steps start faint and quiet, getting louder the closer Luther gets in coming back, before he's another large shape in the shadows that wanders back into the room. Careful, slow steps as he makes his way to the side of her bed, and she took one, and deciding simply, and straightforwardly, to start somewhere she hadn't really even though of before her fingers touched the glass,
You should close the door.
She could say it's to keep the sound from traveling, from waking up Diego, or Five, in bedrooms all not too far away, even if not as close as they'd all been once upon a time in that tiny hallway, but she never made a habit of lying to Luther. And she's pretty sure that one would be just as transparent all of this, too.
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Allison picked up a pillow and scooted back to the headboard, a little grateful she didn't have to worry about making the bed she'd never even unmade, only dropped on top of. She put the pillow in her lap and flattened her fingers on the soft fluff as she let herself lean back and waited. The dark silence of the house that was stillness. Five and Diego likely long gone to bed, too. The rest of the near-empty house spread out in the space beyond her door. Where Luther was.
She didn't regret saying it. She told herself that twice, as she dug her fingertips a little into the pillow waiting, trying not to give any court to the idea Luther might take as long as he could if he really had been looking for any reason to go once stepping in. It wasn't exhaustion. It wasn't a mistake. She still meant it. It still changed nothing. But that was a lie, too. Because somehow it loosened something inside her, too. Something she hadn't even realized until she saw what it was to not have it.
Allison closed her eyes briefly. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Until those steps start faint and quiet, getting louder the closer Luther gets in coming back, before he's another large shape in the shadows that wanders back into the room. Careful, slow steps as he makes his way to the side of her bed, and she took one, and deciding simply, and straightforwardly, to start somewhere she hadn't really even though of before her fingers touched the glass,
You should close the door.
She could say it's to keep the sound from traveling, from waking up Diego, or Five, in bedrooms all not too far away, even if not as close as they'd all been once upon a time in that tiny hallway, but she never made a habit of lying to Luther. And she's pretty sure that one would be just as transparent all of this, too.