[A breath Vash didn't know he was holding finally escapes him. He leans back against the headboard, eyes closing. Wolfwood was okay. Somehow, their idiotic trip into the woods hadn't gotten them both killed. He wasn't much of a believer in miracles, not real ones, but this sure as hell came close.
Despite having thoroughly assured himself of Wolfwood's wellbeing, though, Vash can't quite bring himself to tear his gaze away. Right now, the undertaker seemed to be at peace, and it showed on his face. Wolfwood always had a rugged handsomeness to him that even Vash couldn't deny, but asleep like this? Vash's brain comes dangerously close to calling him beautiful.
That stray thought happens to be what snaps Vash back to a more sensible state of mind. Shaking his head, he forced himself to look anywhere but at his slumbering companion. In the end, he stares hard at a stray piece of fiber coming off his blanket.
The longer he stares, though, the more his mind wanders again. At least this time he avoids thinking too hard about Wolfwood. This time, he sifts back through the memories of the day prior, trying to make sense of what they'd learned. None of it was particularly pleasant. It didn't bode well for their shared future in this world. Nor had any of what they'd gained been worth all the blood shed.
He rubs at one of the more shallow wounds on his chest, then sighs. Trying to wallow like this wasn't going to get him anywhere. He at least needed to clean up a bit.
Swinging his legs off of the bed, Vash pulls himself to his feet. He stumbles just a little, legs weak from both the running and the substantial amount of rest he received. The floor creaks loudly beneath his feet, and Vash winces until the dull roar silences itself. He steals a glance toward the slumbering man, praying to whatever god ruled this place that he was still sleeping. Wolfwood needed his rest, after all.
(And maybe, just maybe, Vash might want to commit that slumbering visage just a little deeper into his memory. Oops.]
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Despite having thoroughly assured himself of Wolfwood's wellbeing, though, Vash can't quite bring himself to tear his gaze away. Right now, the undertaker seemed to be at peace, and it showed on his face. Wolfwood always had a rugged handsomeness to him that even Vash couldn't deny, but asleep like this? Vash's brain comes dangerously close to calling him beautiful.
That stray thought happens to be what snaps Vash back to a more sensible state of mind. Shaking his head, he forced himself to look anywhere but at his slumbering companion. In the end, he stares hard at a stray piece of fiber coming off his blanket.
The longer he stares, though, the more his mind wanders again. At least this time he avoids thinking too hard about Wolfwood. This time, he sifts back through the memories of the day prior, trying to make sense of what they'd learned. None of it was particularly pleasant. It didn't bode well for their shared future in this world. Nor had any of what they'd gained been worth all the blood shed.
He rubs at one of the more shallow wounds on his chest, then sighs. Trying to wallow like this wasn't going to get him anywhere. He at least needed to clean up a bit.
Swinging his legs off of the bed, Vash pulls himself to his feet. He stumbles just a little, legs weak from both the running and the substantial amount of rest he received. The floor creaks loudly beneath his feet, and Vash winces until the dull roar silences itself. He steals a glance toward the slumbering man, praying to whatever god ruled this place that he was still sleeping. Wolfwood needed his rest, after all.
(And maybe, just maybe, Vash might want to commit that slumbering visage just a little deeper into his memory. Oops.]