[She notices the loss of warmth from Trevor's side of her, of course. That, and the way that his movement had shifted the mattress — the floor had been still and unforgiving for the past week, so now it's as though she's unusually aware of when things move beneath her, shifting and repositioning, just because it's so different a sensation from what she'd grown accustomed to.
Alucard is fairly latched onto her, at this point; his breath is steady against her shoulder, and if she left it long enough she would lull back into drowsy, shallow slumber herself, but then she hears the sound of Trevor coming back and makes herself stay awake just a little longer, head angling to watch for him to return.]
Yes.
[She's speaking French; that's just what she'd settled on as easiest, somehow, half conscious choice and half just because that's what fell most naturally from her tongue when she'd tried to start speaking.]
no subject
Alucard is fairly latched onto her, at this point; his breath is steady against her shoulder, and if she left it long enough she would lull back into drowsy, shallow slumber herself, but then she hears the sound of Trevor coming back and makes herself stay awake just a little longer, head angling to watch for him to return.]
Yes.
[She's speaking French; that's just what she'd settled on as easiest, somehow, half conscious choice and half just because that's what fell most naturally from her tongue when she'd tried to start speaking.]
Why are you?