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justsookie) wrote2011-10-01 10:19 am
justsookie) wrote2011-10-01 10:19 am
Entry tags:
i would like to hold your hand as we're shifted through this twisted abandon
When the last, lingering traces of sleep were reluctantly tugged away in the morning, Sookie's first instinct was no longer to pull the sheets over her head, or to stubbornly bury her nose into her pillow. Instead, she reached over to the other side of the bed, feeling around with her hands as her eyes remained tightly shut. On luckier days, she'd find Mitchell there and allow herself to sleep in an extra fifteen minutes, only to wind up late for her first class, or for a shift at the office, stumbling out of the hut with flyaway hair and shoes hooked on her fingers as she ran barefoot through the grass. That morning, Sookie found herself pressing a faint smile against Mitchell's shoulder, dropping a kiss as she snuck her arm around his waist, pulling herself closer to him.
"Think we should get up?" she asked, voice hoarse with sleep as she opened a single eye. When met with indistinct mumbling as ever, Sookie huffed a laugh, shaking her head and yawning. "Didn't think so."
Rolling over, Sookie allowed her arm to hang limp for a moment before pushing herself up to lean against the headboard, yawning again and running her fingers through her hair absently as she peered over at her nightstand. Next to the usual glass of water was a folder that she couldn't remember having ever seen before, dark in color, deeper than any of the Council records. Glancing over at Mitchell again, Sookie pursed her lips before reaching out to haul the folder onto her lap, shifting and beginning to flip through its contents. Slowly, the furrow under her brow began to grow deeper as she rifled through photographs, receipts, newspaper clippings— everything, it seemed, centering around her as its subject.
Normally, she might have assumed that it was the workings of a memoir compiled by her grandmother, but it was the neat scrawl of Bill's handwriting that told her otherwise, one which laid out her family tree as far back as Sookie herself knew, and then some. Occasional relatives were marked, as was her own name. Photographs of her at Merlotte's were scattered. Even contact information from the Rattrays was hidden among everything else. Sookie felt her face blanch, her cheeks tingling, and she shot Mitchell a worried look, wondering if it would be best if she kept it to— no. She shook her head to herself, sighing through her teeth. No, she'd continue sitting in bed until he woke, with the folder in her hands, see what he had to make of it.
And until he woke up, she could spend an hour or so alone with the folder, trying to make out the purpose of it before handing it off to anyone else.
"Think we should get up?" she asked, voice hoarse with sleep as she opened a single eye. When met with indistinct mumbling as ever, Sookie huffed a laugh, shaking her head and yawning. "Didn't think so."
Rolling over, Sookie allowed her arm to hang limp for a moment before pushing herself up to lean against the headboard, yawning again and running her fingers through her hair absently as she peered over at her nightstand. Next to the usual glass of water was a folder that she couldn't remember having ever seen before, dark in color, deeper than any of the Council records. Glancing over at Mitchell again, Sookie pursed her lips before reaching out to haul the folder onto her lap, shifting and beginning to flip through its contents. Slowly, the furrow under her brow began to grow deeper as she rifled through photographs, receipts, newspaper clippings— everything, it seemed, centering around her as its subject.
Normally, she might have assumed that it was the workings of a memoir compiled by her grandmother, but it was the neat scrawl of Bill's handwriting that told her otherwise, one which laid out her family tree as far back as Sookie herself knew, and then some. Occasional relatives were marked, as was her own name. Photographs of her at Merlotte's were scattered. Even contact information from the Rattrays was hidden among everything else. Sookie felt her face blanch, her cheeks tingling, and she shot Mitchell a worried look, wondering if it would be best if she kept it to— no. She shook her head to herself, sighing through her teeth. No, she'd continue sitting in bed until he woke, with the folder in her hands, see what he had to make of it.
And until he woke up, she could spend an hour or so alone with the folder, trying to make out the purpose of it before handing it off to anyone else.