Work Text:
The living room is a mess. This isn't exactly unusual, but tonight, it's a new mess. Most nights, before Lira or Sens picks up, there are at least half a dozen books scattered around, with pens, notebooks, cups of tea gone cold, and crumbs from scones and dog biscuits. Tonight, there are fewer books and fewer cups of tea, and more bottles of energy drinks -- bright blue, because the association of lyrium and mental energy is still strong, even if the stuff has been locked down for generations -- and an absolute explosion of pens, papers, and notebooks.
Even Morrigan is sleepy-eyed. She's curled herself into some sort of disjointed position that is birdlike in the way her neck arches and yet entirely other in the way she's curled her body. It might be more natural for one of her other shapes; Morrigan often seems to forget which body she's using when she's excessively tired.
"We won't fail," Sens says, looking at the scattered ethics essays that litter the coffee table and the floor.
Dog lifts his head from the pile of papers he’d been sleeping on and huffs a little, then lets his head drop back down onto the discarded papers. From his place on the floor, Jowan reaches over to pat Dog on the head; his hand shakes just a little as he runs his fingers through Dog’s golden brown fur. There are bags under his eyes, a testament to his exhaustion. There’s a softness about Lira’s own tired eyes when she looks up at Sens and smiles.
“No, we won’t,” she responds, voice low. Jowan is in his own world and Morrigan has yet to lift her head but Sens meets her eyes. Lira gives Sens a tiny nod, collecting the bottles closest to her to dispose of.
Sens nods back and climbs to her feet, picking up the other bottles and glasses. Her mouth curves for a moment, there and gone again, and she adds, "Now we just need sleep."
She carries the bottles into the kitchen, dropping them in the trash can without much thought to noise. Jowan and Morrigan need to wake up enough to take themselves to bed, and Zevran has vanished for the night. After that, she returns to the living room and begins putting pens and markers on the coffee table, shuffling papers around so that hopefully nothing will get ink on it.
Lira follows Sens’s path to the kitchen, throwing away the bottles, and returning to the living area to clean up leftover snacks and wrappers. Jowan left a jar of jam open on top of a stack of his papers, which she collects and returns to the tiny refrigerator. Between the two of them, they contain the mess in little time. On her last trip to the kitchen before heading to bed, Lira pauses next to Sens feathering her fingers over the shorter woman’s shoulders. Sens turns her head up slightly in acknowledgement and Lira leans down to kiss her softly on the cheek.
She whispers a soft, “good night” into Sens’s dark hair and turns toward her room.
"Good night," Sens replies, her mouth curving once again, before she heads back into the living room. She pokes Jowan in the side several times until he mumbles something nonsensical, but after enough prodding, he snorts, heaves himself to his feet, and goes padding off to his room.