The chamomile helped somewhat. It was a soothing taste and did a good job at mellowing Harry out, making him long for his bed.
But once he'd stretched out under the covers, he was stuck being incredibly tired but unable to actually sleep. His thoughts were lazy loops, no significant connections or process, just idle contemplation that pettered out before it could get anywhere.
After a while, he closed his eyes and listened, trying to hear anything. Sirens in the distance, the hum of cars going by ten floors down. Nothing next door.
He wished there was something. Footsteps, the sound of water in the pipes, a dropped object. Anything to betray whether John was awake or not.
God, what was wrong with him? So he got a bit too friendly with his neighbor during the blackout. It was one night. It shouldn't have been haunting him like this. He was a grown man, not... whatever it was that got so caught up with vampires. Teenage girls, probably. He'd seen trailers for that terrible vampire movie saga. They weren't anything like the real thing. John's skin was pale, but not so much his Italian background didn't show in the olive texture. He didn't act like an angst-filled idiot about being a vampire either. He seemed more adjusted to his life than Harry was, for god's sake. John was the very model of a responsible adult.
Just one that sometimes needed to set his mouth against someone's skin, push his teeth through, and drink long and deep--
"No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?"
These were not calming, sleep-inducing thoughts. Harry groaned and turned over in bed, pushing his face into his pillow, trying not to think about that anymore.
He returned the box of tea to John before work the next day. "Did it help?" John asked, politely solicitous.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah?"
John's eyes were sharp on his face, on the way Harry was leaning on the door jamb. "Yes. Clearly," he said, tone lightly sarcastic.
"I'll be fine," Harry muttered, feeling oddly like he was being scolded or something.
"Yesterday you were fine. You seem to be regressing."
John, as... deeply engaging and interesting as Harry found him, was kind of a dick. "What do you want from me?"
"To sleep. Obviously." His gaze dropped down. Harry followed it to his own arm, which Harry was rubbing absentmindedly, right over the fading bite mark. He stopped as John looked at him, face blank. "Mr. Dresden..."
"I... got to open the shop," Harry blurted, backing away. "See you later. Thanks for the tea." He didn't run away, per se, but it was a close thing. Oh well, discretion was the better part of valor or whatever.
He took his lunch as the cafe across the street from his shop, a triple shot latte with a pumpernickle sandwich piled up with deli meats. He ate his sandwich, savoring the sweet and savory taste mix, then nursed his coffee with one hand, a book held open in his other. The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
This was getting ridiculous.
Harry stomped home, radiating surly annoyance as he walked, as he rode the Red Line, as he waited for the elevator, all of it.
He'd slept through most of his work. And he still felt exhausted, like his knees were going to buckle at any moment and spill him onto the floor. He couldn't keep going like this. He needed... something.
He fed the animals and took a shower, letting the hot water beat onto him until the tension was forced out of him. It felt good, invigorating. But when he stumbled out of the bathroom, the heat, the tiredness, it made his head spin and he fell down, down...
You just know how to make the OP grin, don't you? :)
Yes, this is stereotypical Harlequin enough to have me sitting in bed, grinning, trying not to laugh because all the other kiddies are in bed.
Also, this:
The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
Just had me going "awww... Harry. John should walk in on you. Right now."
And then, of course, I went straight to John finding him after Harry fainted. Asking Harry if he's still sure he's fine, and Harry telling John that yes, he's sure he's fine, he was just napping. On the bathroom floor. And wouldn't wake up.
And John totally not believing it, but playing along anyways. Maybe offering some more tea, with a bit of honey or milk if Harry's not fond of the taste...
Ooooooooooh, I'm hella late to the party, but I still very much love reading this. Is there more to John's bite than it seems? Will Harry ever ask about that unconventional first bite and ever sleep? Oh, the mysteries of Harlequins... <3
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More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
But once he'd stretched out under the covers, he was stuck being incredibly tired but unable to actually sleep. His thoughts were lazy loops, no significant connections or process, just idle contemplation that pettered out before it could get anywhere.
After a while, he closed his eyes and listened, trying to hear anything. Sirens in the distance, the hum of cars going by ten floors down. Nothing next door.
He wished there was something. Footsteps, the sound of water in the pipes, a dropped object. Anything to betray whether John was awake or not.
God, what was wrong with him? So he got a bit too friendly with his neighbor during the blackout. It was one night. It shouldn't have been haunting him like this. He was a grown man, not... whatever it was that got so caught up with vampires. Teenage girls, probably. He'd seen trailers for that terrible vampire movie saga. They weren't anything like the real thing. John's skin was pale, but not so much his Italian background didn't show in the olive texture. He didn't act like an angst-filled idiot about being a vampire either. He seemed more adjusted to his life than Harry was, for god's sake. John was the very model of a responsible adult.
Just one that sometimes needed to set his mouth against someone's skin, push his teeth through, and drink long and deep--
"No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?"
These were not calming, sleep-inducing thoughts. Harry groaned and turned over in bed, pushing his face into his pillow, trying not to think about that anymore.
He returned the box of tea to John before work the next day. "Did it help?" John asked, politely solicitous.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah?"
John's eyes were sharp on his face, on the way Harry was leaning on the door jamb. "Yes. Clearly," he said, tone lightly sarcastic.
"I'll be fine," Harry muttered, feeling oddly like he was being scolded or something.
"Yesterday you were fine. You seem to be regressing."
John, as... deeply engaging and interesting as Harry found him, was kind of a dick. "What do you want from me?"
"To sleep. Obviously." His gaze dropped down. Harry followed it to his own arm, which Harry was rubbing absentmindedly, right over the fading bite mark. He stopped as John looked at him, face blank. "Mr. Dresden..."
"I... got to open the shop," Harry blurted, backing away. "See you later. Thanks for the tea." He didn't run away, per se, but it was a close thing. Oh well, discretion was the better part of valor or whatever.
He took his lunch as the cafe across the street from his shop, a triple shot latte with a pumpernickle sandwich piled up with deli meats. He ate his sandwich, savoring the sweet and savory taste mix, then nursed his coffee with one hand, a book held open in his other. The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
This was getting ridiculous.
Harry stomped home, radiating surly annoyance as he walked, as he rode the Red Line, as he waited for the elevator, all of it.
He'd slept through most of his work. And he still felt exhausted, like his knees were going to buckle at any moment and spill him onto the floor. He couldn't keep going like this. He needed... something.
He fed the animals and took a shower, letting the hot water beat onto him until the tension was forced out of him. It felt good, invigorating. But when he stumbled out of the bathroom, the heat, the tiredness, it made his head spin and he fell down, down...
[this stereotypical Harlequin enough? OH FAINTING OH! :swoon:]
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
*will not laugh at Harry, will NOT*
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)(Yes. The fainting. You should see my big ass shit eating grin.)
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 09:27 pm (UTC)(link)Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-19 01:18 am (UTC)(link)Yes, this is stereotypical Harlequin enough to have me sitting in bed, grinning, trying not to laugh because all the other kiddies are in bed.
Also, this:
The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
Just had me going "awww... Harry. John should walk in on you. Right now."
And then, of course, I went straight to John finding him after Harry fainted. Asking Harry if he's still sure he's fine, and Harry telling John that yes, he's sure he's fine, he was just napping. On the bathroom floor. And wouldn't wake up.
And John totally not believing it, but playing along anyways. Maybe offering some more tea, with a bit of honey or milk if Harry's not fond of the taste...
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-28 12:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-05-08 02:01 pm (UTC)(link)-OP
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?