Pulse

[selenias]

Raven didn't mind her eccentricity most days. It was familiar; wholesome; welcomed.

Lamp turned on in the dark, she worked, as if it wasn't evening and the curtains weren't drawn on his side of the room. As if his heart wasn't being offered up like a gift to a divinity he didn't recognize.

Shifting his head to the side to glance accusingly at the clock, a single arm stretched out to reach, there came a gentle tap around his blastia, and he hesitated.

“Only a few more minutes,” Rita murmured, and he listened to a pulse not his own.