[PRP] The Start of Something Beautiful (Sal and Wrath)

[Seussi]

Wrath had a massive headache.

That was the first thing he noticed when he awoke, his head throbbing horribly as every small sound seemed to pierce his brain. His brow furrowed as he hissed out a long breath, fighting back the nausea that rolled over him in waves. What in all the seven hell's had he decided to drink last night? It was impossible to remember, everything about the night before hazy, blurred, and on top of that, thinking about it just hurt too damn much.

It was one of those Famine brews again. He just knew it.

Even from behind closed eyelids, he could tell it was daytime. But he didn't want to get up, not yet. Instead, he rolled over, and grabbed for whatever was closest to him, pillow, blanket....body if there was one, to haul in towards him, to bury his face against and, hopefully, block out the light so he could attempt to pass out again and sleep this whole thing off.

It only very vaguely occurred to him that his own bed was not nearly as comfortable as wherever he was currently sleeping.

Enoh Love

 

[Enoh Love]

Sometime in the night, Sal had felt someone join him in bed. He hadn't turned to look at the time, and he remembered passing it off as either Na'ima, who sometimes just needed company, or Hel, who was, in his mind, a toddler. Toddlers often crawled into bed with whomever they deemed as a parental unit when frightened, and while he couldn't imagine Hel being frightened of anything, he knew better than to be surprised by anything she ever did. So he had gone back to sleep, ignoring his rather unwanted bedmate on the grounds they were leaving him be.

So when he woke up in the morning to someone's arm wrapping around him, he had no choice but to sit up. When he turned to see which female was being needy, he was surprised to find that it was someone he had never seen before. Not only that, but it was an unknown male. He stared for a moment, and tried to formulate a plan to get around the man without disrupting him, but alas, he saw none. So he did the first thing that came to mind, that would bring the most joy to him right now.

Sal grabbed a pillow, and held it to the younger man's face.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

So warm, so comfortable. Wherever Wrath had decided to bunk down for the night, it had been a good choice. There were strange scents in the air, but not of anything unpleasant. Beside him, he could now sense a warm body, one that moved when his arm wrapped around it, and when he barely peeked open one eye for a glimpse, all he really caught sight of was a long, pale hair before he suddenly found something pressed against his face.

Hard.

He couldn't breathe, and it only took him a split second to realize he was being smothered. Funnily enough (or maybe not really), this wasn't the first time Wrath had found himself on the receiving end of attempted murder by one he shared a bed with, and where many might have panicked, he remained relatively calm, and before his brain could begin to swim dizzily from lack of oxygen, he pulled his arm back, drew his hand into a fist, then aimed a punch for where he thought might be his assailants chest or, more hopefully, throat.

If he missed then well....at least he'd be able to go back to sleep soon enough.

Enoh Love

 

[Enoh Love]

The stranger's hand touched his face, and Sal's expression turned sour - an occurrence that happened roughly once every decade - for the first few seconds of the greatly unwanted contact. It took him a solid moment to ease the expression away, smoothing out the look of pure disgust into one of smiling innocence.

The pillow pulled away.

"My apologies! I didn't see you there~" He gasped, feigning guilt and concern, before setting his pillow back to where it belonged, and where he would likely remove it in a few hour's time, if only to burn it to cinders. "Are you lost, little colt?"

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

At this point, knowing that he had failed in getting a solid blow on his assailant, Rathsvith had come to terms with the fact that now he would likely pass out from oxygen depravity, and possibly dissipate if the attacker chose not to relent. Oh well, he supposed he had endured far worse at some points in the more wild and carefree days of his life. It still wasn't fun, that hopeless feeling, that burning need to take a breath, the way his head began to swim dizzily....

The pillow was suddenly removed, and Wrath gasped in a breath of fresh air, but, miraculously, didn't bother shooting up in bed to round on whoever it was that had tried, and nearly succeeded, in smothering him. No, he remained where he lay for a time, taking in even breaths of that sweet air mixed with an oddly chemical scent after his initial gasp, his dark red eyes rolling up towards the one who spoke.

"Little?" Even in a that mild and somewhat quiet tone, his voice seemed to rumble from out of his chest like thunder. Sitting up, slowly, muscles flexed in his arms and chest, all bare due to him stripping down to his waist. Broad shoulders lifted and became broader as he straightened up fully, his long hair, braided, though a bit messily after sleeping on it, lay twisted and pooled at his side. At his full height, Wrath stood at 6'7" tall, and sitting, he was no less impressive of a sight, with scars that crisscrossed his chest and parts of his arms, to match those on his face.

His lips lifted in a smile. "Not so. Nor am I to be considered a colt, though to one that is clearly quite elderly, I suppose it is all relative." A lot of words, for a man who normally said quite little, especially with a head that throbbed painfully, a grim reminder of how much drink he'd consumed the night before.

"Lost...I suppose that depends." He reached up, fingers stroking down his long beard as his eyes drifted up and down the other mans wiry form, as though in appraisal. "On whether or not I was a welcome bed mate."

He got the distinct impression that he was not.

Enoh Love