pagings: (✨️ - 009)
karen page. ([personal profile] pagings) wrote in [community profile] diademlogs 2025-06-18 12:49 am (UTC)

[ he did, in fact, humor her once. it had been a few huts in, a few rooms of nothing but side comments and a couple of chuckles and some terrible, truly awful prints. when she'd lifted the cowboy hat up (it hadn't even been quality, something she would have seen at an airport, or maybe tucked into a second hand store) she had already been planning on putting it back. except that as she offers it towards him, he actually doesn't lean away - and maybe it's the alcohol, maybe she's just feeling brave, but she sets it atop his head with a flutter of her heart and grins. ]

You know- you actually pull it off.

[ he tosses it back a moment later, but she counts it as a win - letting the feeling of it lead her on into the next room, the next find, the next spot.

she watches him look over the belt, approvingly, and the I don't mind that does wonders, and she smiles, proud, excited in a way she would be a little sheepish about if she were any more sober. as it stands, she lets it dance across her face, watching as his own softens a little right before he looks towards the door.

right. yes. it's late, she reminds herself, and she's nodding and stepping around him back to the door. ]
Well- it's something. But we might want to head back. It's... I think it's late? It's hard to tell with the moons.

[ the walk back to her hut isn't awkward, exactly, but there is a kind of anticipation in it. because karen knows what she wants to ask once they get there, but she's not entirely sure how it will land. there's also the part of her that doesn't really know what she wants to call this at all, if anything. they had fun, she's been having fun, and she likes the fact he's here, too- a lot more than is really necessary. a lot more than she probably should, knowing her track record. but-

well. maybe she's thinking too hard about all of this. maybe the alcohol, plus the quiet night, the comfortable warmth of the air, and the way she feels relaxed, truly, for the first time since she woke up in that med bay.

( maybe karen just wants to feel like this, for just a little longer. )

the smart thing would probably be for her to go to sleep. and he probably has work, his next shift, people to look into. but as they get back to the hut she's settled into and he hovers, just for a few moments by the door with his boots in hand, she thinks what the hell, bumping his elbow a little as she steps by him into the room. ]


Heading out? [ she asks, a little nervous, feeling her heart race a little as she pulls out the second bottle of bourbon she had left behind. she steps over the cushions where they're piled in the middle of the floor and to grab the bottle from the other side of the room. ]

Or you could stay- if you wanted to. [ the words are a little abrupt, even as she tries to very casually look over to where he's standing. there's a pause, a moment of quiet. and then, in a similar surge of bravery as before, when she'd set that hat atop his head- ] I'd like you to, but I get it if you need to head back. [ another beat. ] Just for a drink? [ she tries to sound playful, a little cheeky, as she holds up the bottle - even if she's quite genuine in the ask.

the pause feels a bit like it takes years off her life, and the words are already in her throat. no pressure and sorry, I'm sure you have your job and don't worry about it, nevermind. but then he sets the boots down, wanders over and takes the bottle she offers to him after pouring herself her own glass, and. well. her smile is bright as he collapses into the cushions. she resettles a little, less like she would drink herself to sleep on the cushions and more turned towards him, feeling... nervous? maybe? but excited. happy, that he's stayed. ]


What- looting? No. [ she laughs, shaking her head. ] And I definitely didn't go to places like this. Read a few brochures, but I never had that kind of money. Wasn't really my scene. [ which feels... oddly open, somehow. it's not like she's self-conscious about her own financial state, or that of her family's either, but somehow through their conversations it doesn't feel like that sort of detail has ever really come up.

she doesn't mind it, but she does notice it, shifting to be a little more comfortable in the cushions as she tilts her glass to him. ]
Going through a bottle of bourbon before bed? [ she pauses, a little sheepish. ] More often than I should, probably. [ and then, very distinctly moving right on by whatever reasons for that answer, or even giving logan room to ask, she continues. ]

So. Are you a bourbon drinker by choice? Or do you just not really care that much?

[ the next couple of hours are spent in easy conversation about nothing in particular. they talk about bikes, about cars, about alcohol, about music, but nothing dips too deep. karen laughs, easily, when logan cracks jokes and lights up a cigar. she might even set her hand on his shoulder as she - clumsily - climbs out of the cushions at some point to head to the bathroom. but it's all nice, it's all easy, and it's those few hours later that sleep starts, truly, creeping up on her - causing her to sink a little more into the cushions than she really means to. ]

Sorry for kind of- taking over your night. [ she says, her words a little slurred from the combination of the alcohol and exhaustion. but she feels good, warm, carefree, happy. she's even smiling as her eyes blink, a little too slowly. ] You pro'ly had other plans.

[ karen is going to fall asleep on him here within minutes - if he was looking for his out. and if he does take it, it'll be at the door that she speaks up - groggily, actively falling to sleep. ]

Thanks, Logan. For... [ a sigh, or is it a yawn? ] Tonight.

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