“Blech, don’t use that word. Wife,” she said disdainfully. “I don’t like it, at all.” Finley crossed her arms. “Keep moving me, and I’ll keep moving back. The only way I see this ending is if we both swallow our pride and share your enormous bed. We can make a wall of pillows or something.”
Arranged and Illegitimate // Fantasy OxO // Closed
He sighed. "We can share the bed if that's what you're comfortable with. You're on the bed no matter what, wife, so it's your choice." he looked up at the ceiling, letting out a sigh.
Finley gave him a glare. “Stop calling me that. And I’m sure as hell not making you take a cot in your own bedroom, so sure. Let’s share.”
(gtg sorry)
Callan sighed, and got onto the bed. "Fine. Let's go to bed then, shall we?" he flopped backwards, staring at the ceiling.
Finley grabbed four pillows and arranged them into a line between her and Callan, giving herself more of the bed than him. She lay down on her side about half an inch from the edge of the mattress and tried unsuccessfully to asleep.
Callan lay down on his side, his back to her, and closed his eyes. He didn't know how he was going to proceed. How he could keep her from finding out just what was wrong with him. Because…well. He couldn't tell her what was wrong. He didn't trust her not to go blabbing it to everyone.
(timeskip to morning?)
(sure. Want me to do it or do you want to?)
(I think I have a cute idea for when they wake up, if you don’t mind!)
(alright, go ahead! I gtg to bed soon though, so I might not reply until tomorrow)
(Works for me!)
By the time the sun began to trickle through the windows, Finley had long since broken through her pillow wall and managed to drape herself over Callan, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as if he was a teddy bear. She let out a loud snore, hugging him closer.
Callan was asleep still, one of his arms slung around Finley, having rolled over to face her. He slept silently, breathing through his nose. The stone had spread a little while he slept, but wasn't visible to Finley, since it had only spread beneath his clothing.
With a sudden snort, Finley’s eyes shot open, and she realized what must had happened during the night. Detangling herself as fast as physically possible, she she shoved herself backwards with so much force that she landed on the floor besides the bed with a loud thump.
Callan awoke with a start, sitting up and looking around before spotting her and relaxing a bit. "Oh. It's you." he said, getting out of bed. His movements were slow, a little jerky and less smooth than normal as he crossed the room to the dresser. He slid open a drawer, pulled out a small bottle, and drained the contents. It was supposed to help combat the stone, keep it from affecting his daily life.
“No shit, moron,” Finley mumbled, still facedown on the floor. Flipping herself onto her back, she caught a glimpse of his bottle. “Hey, is that alcohol? This early in the morning? Please, hand it over.” She made a clumsy grabbing gesture.
He blinked. "Ah…no. This is my meds. So I don't die soon." he replied, setting the small, empty bottle down and rubbing his hands against his pants.
Finley paused for a second. “Okay. Yep. Almost forgot the fact of your imminent death.” She used the bed to help pull herself to her feet and stretched, her borrowed shirt brushing her thighs. “Good morning!” she said in a false sing-song.
Callan let out a faint laugh. "Uh huh." he could feel the stone pulling back, retreating again. For now. It would creep back and someday the medicine wouldn't be enough to keep it at bay. Someday he would turn to stone, and never move again. "Good morning."
Finley gave a little nod. “Well, what do royals tend to do in the morning? You certainly have more experience with that than I do.” She started to make the bed, carefully refolding the sheets and arranging the pillows.
"Hm. Uhm. Well, you don't need to make the…shit." he sighed, and walked over to the bed. "We have to make it look like we, er…consummated." he cleared his throat awkwardly, throwing back the sheets and looking down at the bed with narrowed eyes.
(bump?)