Priya Chastaine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nola_katniss) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
return_to_nola2019-06-16 12:04 am
nola_katniss) wrote in return_to_nola2019-06-16 12:04 am
Entry tags:
Jonah
They'd started to settle into a routine, and routine was essential for Priya to avoid meltdowns and anxiety attacks. So was sticking close to Jonah, which is why their lives had become so heavily entwined. They spent most early mornings at the yoga studio for Jonah's classes, the middle part of the day at the garage so Priya could work, and then it was either back to the studio for evening classes or running errands or getting things done at home. Home, which was Jonah's apartment, though Priya had all but moved in. She didn't need a lot of stuff--just a toothbrush and some clothes and a few pictures of her family.
Her mother still didn't understand what was going on, and Priya wished it could have resolved into something other than the chilly stalemate they were currently in, but it was the best of a lot of bad options. She couldn't tell her mother what was really going on, she couldn't let her mother get upset and yell at her in front of Jonah and risk hurting his fragile peace, and she certainly couldn't leave Jonah alone and just go back to her life like her mother so desperately wanted. Priya hated that she couldn't make things better for her mother, who had always accepted everything about her, things other parents were horrible to their children for, but some things she couldn't fix.
But right now she wasn't thinking of that. Right now she was thinking about how peaceful Jonah looked as he slept, and about how she hadn't noticed before how long his eyelashes were. She was tempted to reach out and play with his hair, those curls she'd become incredibly fond of, but she didn't want to wake him. It was a Sunday, and they had nowhere to be; the garage was closed, none of the morning classes at the studio were Jonah's. Priya had only been awake for a few moments herself, and she was going to enjoy being here, in bed, safe, both of them curled towards each other without even meaning to, as long as she could.
Her mother still didn't understand what was going on, and Priya wished it could have resolved into something other than the chilly stalemate they were currently in, but it was the best of a lot of bad options. She couldn't tell her mother what was really going on, she couldn't let her mother get upset and yell at her in front of Jonah and risk hurting his fragile peace, and she certainly couldn't leave Jonah alone and just go back to her life like her mother so desperately wanted. Priya hated that she couldn't make things better for her mother, who had always accepted everything about her, things other parents were horrible to their children for, but some things she couldn't fix.
But right now she wasn't thinking of that. Right now she was thinking about how peaceful Jonah looked as he slept, and about how she hadn't noticed before how long his eyelashes were. She was tempted to reach out and play with his hair, those curls she'd become incredibly fond of, but she didn't want to wake him. It was a Sunday, and they had nowhere to be; the garage was closed, none of the morning classes at the studio were Jonah's. Priya had only been awake for a few moments herself, and she was going to enjoy being here, in bed, safe, both of them curled towards each other without even meaning to, as long as she could.
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Priya wrapped an arm around him and rubbed his back in even circles. "I've got you. And you don't have to talk to him, to them, if you don't want to. I just thought you'd want to know." Her first instinct, always, was to protect Jonah, to keep everything from him that might hurt or upset him. But he'd said he didn't want that, so she was doing her best not to follow that instinct.
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“Sorry, um.” Jonah wasn’t sure he had even heard the whole story. God, they were having such a good morning, he didn’t want to ruin it. “Where is he from? And he found his — his wife?”
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"You don't have to apologize, you didn't do anything wrong." She knew he wasn't choosing to be upset. "His name was Tristan Thorn. I looked it up, and it's from a story called Stardust." It wasn't one she was familiar with, so she read the synopsis. "Yes, his wife. But they're not married here yet. Like I'm your wife."
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Stardust didn’t mean anything to Jonah; it didn’t ring any bells. But he knew that their lives, here, existed between the covers of books. So was this any more crazy than that? “What kind of story is it? Was he… is he…?” Was he a good person? Was he nice to Priya?
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"Wikipedia says it's a romance. And fantasy. There were witches and sky pirates and things." All in all, it sounded like a much nicer world than theirs. "Tristan was the hero. And at the end he marries Yvaine, a star who accidentally got knocked out of the sky."
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"That sounds a whole lot nicer than... you know." Fighting to the death. Brainwashing. Oppression. Fear.
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"Yeah, it does." Priya was a little envious, but also she would never wish what she had gone through on anyone. "There's a movie, maybe we can watch it."
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"We could do that." There was a movie about their lives too, Jonah knew. He couldn't imagine watching that, but maybe this story about love and a star... would actually be pleasant.
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"It can be a date night," she offered, a little of her earlier smile returning. Not that they didn't spend every night together, but she liked the idea of doing something cute and special for Jonah.
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"Date night." It was, genuinely, a novel concept. Jonah considered that, smiling. "We're going to have a date night."