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Dec. 15th, 2005 10:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thecooloneThere's a full moon out there. Bill stands by the window to Room 42, gazing out.
Werewolves are out there; the bar has a full complement of them, after all. An occasional howl makes its way to his ears. He stares out at whatever orb passes for the moon here on the asteroid and feels...
nothing.
As he's done the past several months, he's monitored himself so very carefully on the full: what if, improbable though it might be, he's had a delayed reaction to that bite? He knows the scars are healing; Raven did a fine job at that. But what if... what if... what if...
Bloody hell. There are too many what ifs. Turning, his glance falls on Fleur sleeping peacefully, a pillow tucked between her arms. That's where I should be: she's my wife. He lets the curtain fall closed, undresses quickly, and gets back into bed. Carefully he works his arms around Fleur, trying not to wake her; he feels so much better with her in his arms.
"I love you."
It's the quietest of whispers. Resting his head against the pillows, a beam of moonlight filters through a gap in the curtain, meeting his face.
Bill stares that beam of moonlight down for as long as he can before sleep claims him.
Werewolves are out there; the bar has a full complement of them, after all. An occasional howl makes its way to his ears. He stares out at whatever orb passes for the moon here on the asteroid and feels...
nothing.
As he's done the past several months, he's monitored himself so very carefully on the full: what if, improbable though it might be, he's had a delayed reaction to that bite? He knows the scars are healing; Raven did a fine job at that. But what if... what if... what if...
Bloody hell. There are too many what ifs. Turning, his glance falls on Fleur sleeping peacefully, a pillow tucked between her arms. That's where I should be: she's my wife. He lets the curtain fall closed, undresses quickly, and gets back into bed. Carefully he works his arms around Fleur, trying not to wake her; he feels so much better with her in his arms.
"I love you."
It's the quietest of whispers. Resting his head against the pillows, a beam of moonlight filters through a gap in the curtain, meeting his face.
Bill stares that beam of moonlight down for as long as he can before sleep claims him.
