breath expels in softly graced exhale, contentment solid within wingchair she's allowed herself to drift off against, lashes fluttering by warming heat of fire's blaze. comfortable and remarkably safe. it'd been a lengthy day, challenges and questions alike, various nosebleeds concocting successfully run tests. ( you don't mind, truly. the master of the establishment isn't frightening like papa— tad strict, but easier tenfold. how you hope you'll never need return to ceramic lined horror you've originated. ) limbs yawned before lips could part, as pogo plated a mug of hot chocolate upon the side table. wintery weather deemed destination on favourite position in the great main room. eyes merely closed sooner than realisation dawned. alas, churning open, blinking reality once more as softness coats curled up frame, mother's feathery touch tenderly assuring safety. " oh— " you're told to call her mother, to call them brother's and sister's. it doesn't seem right to you, not yet at least.

rubs eyelids a little harsh, opening and closing multiple times for the haze to disperse. marshmallow inside liquid completely dissolved; she was looking forward to that drink, too. smiles gently at caretaker, graciousness practically bleeding from pores. " thank you miss hargreeves. it is very cold today. " stretches tingling spine, tugging quilt underneath chin. household stills a quietude elle liked best, where flickering flames ignite, footsteps of pacing mysterious man on the floor above echoing. strain closer, and one can hear the pages turning of pogo's current book. " i didn't mean to fall asleep. i just felt really tired. ( ... ) will you like to sit with me? " neck twists, beckoning wordlessly towards wingchair only a few feet leftwards, gaze glimmering encouragement " this blanket is big enough for us both. "

@flovraelies : for the sender's muse to place a blanket on top of the receiver's muse after they've fallen asleep somewhere, from grace hargreeves.