I dream of wayward gulls and rare moments of winter sun

[mycursedface]

Medusa and sleep are two things that often do not get along. Even if her dreams are free of nightmares now (and isn't she glad of that - even when she didn't wake up screaming, she'd be whimpering and moaning and causing a scene) it's still...
I walked beside the evening sea
Strange.
And dreamed a dream that could not be;
She mostly sleeps during the day, when it's safe. She sleeps with her arms curled around Sam's pillow when she can't get Sam himself, face buried and snakes lying this way and that. Tangled up in the sheets, wings out, and for such a small person, Medusa takes up a lot of room.

The waves that plunged along the shore
And she dreams. She dreams of the ocean that is her home, of the cliffs and clouds. She dreams of the waves giggling with the voices of her sisters and she dreams of her triplets in the new and empty world in which they'd been born. She dreams of babbling in their own language and trying to pull Stheno's hair as Euryale aims for her feet and-

Said only: "Dreamer, dream no more!"
And when she wakes up, blearily shoving the pillow onto the ground, she can't remember anything. Dreams are like that, sometimes.

Comments

[necessary_child]

Sam laughs, a lot.

"He may have a point. But it does work better with some foods than with others."

Chocolate, for instance.

[mycursedface]

"Mmmm. Still."

She's a fingers-girl, really, and has the practice to make it look neat. But then she thinks for a moment, nibbling as she does so.

"Although, I'm not sure how you'd eat spaghetti with your fingers, actually."

[necessary_child]

Solemnly, "Inventively."

[mycursedface]

Medusa giggles.

"Same for soup, I guess?"

(mmm, Bar's curry...)

[necessary_child]

"Ayep. Or you could be really messy and just drink it straight from the bowl, I suppose."

[mycursedface]

"You would need the right kind of bowl." Pause, another mouthful, chew and swallow and then pick up a small lamb cutlet.

"Or tongue. You could always...try and lap it up. Like a cat."

[necessary_child]

"My tongue is very useful," Sam chirps.

...No, he would never try to make Medusa blush. Don't be silly.

[mycursedface]

So, he wouldn't be at all smug at the way her cheeks turn crimson?

[necessary_child]

In no way, shape or form.

That's why he's not smirking, of course.

[mycursedface]

Medusa is just going to...eat in silence. That way any and all entirely innocent remarks cannot be used as verbal fodder in Sam's campaign against her.

Yes.

(om nom nom)

[necessary_child]

Nom.

Sam doesn't need to say anything. That wicked look in his eyes as he eats pretty much says it all.

[mycursedface]

"You," she says at last (and after most of the meal has been eaten), "are terribly distracting."

[necessary_child]

"Me?" Blithely. "I don't know what you're talking about, Medusa."

[mycursedface]

"Of course you don't."

She smiles fondly despite the raised eyebrows, tearing off a piece of bread. She isn't plotting revenge in the slightest.

Nope.

[necessary_child]

"I don't know anything about that kind of thing. You know me, Medusa." He attempts to look virtuous.

(Sam totally isn't looking forward to her revenge in any possible way.

Nuh-uh.)

[mycursedface]

"Yes, I do." She sucks sauce off a finger, and looks innocent.

[necessary_child]

Sam is, perhaps, paying undue attention to that finger.

"Oh. Good."

[mycursedface]

"Be a shame not knowing you, after living with you for about two months, and all."

Her tone is just the tiniest bit dry.

[necessary_child]

Brightly, "It would. It's always a shame, not knowing me."

[mycursedface]

And if there is one thing Medusa has learned, it's that there never is a good come-back to that. So she just grins at him, and doesn't try.