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“I'm going to bed- Did you hear me?”
Jon looks up from his reading. Basira stands at the foot of the stairs, already dressed for bed so telling him was the last step, clearly. He nods and she nods and he nods again before she sighs, tired, and starts walking up the stairs to the shared bedroom.
“Good night.” He calls after her, looking back down at the book he was trying to inhale before Beholding decided to tell him the entire plot and the entire personal history of who ever wrote it. The book wasn't... good. But it was the principle of the thing.
“Don't lock the door!” Basira's head hangs over the bannister- “Unless you want to pay for a new lock. Again.”
“I didn't.” Which means he won't, because he's becoming more and more forgetful when he has all of knowledge at his fingertips.
What was eight in the evening becomes nine, becomes ten, becomes eleven, becomes twelve, becomes one, and then finally becomes two when the door slams open and Jon looks up for the first time in six hours. It's pitch black out, with a cold miserable sort of wind blowing into the apartment.
Daisy, drenched in- in something- moves through the living room and straight into the kitchen, where Jon was, pulling open the fridge door and pulling out the massive jug of cold water she kept on the bottom shelf.
Jon rushes to close the door, lock it too, now that Daisy is here and no one is going to break down the lock. Keep the wind out.
“Is it yours?” She stops drinking just long enough to shake her head, “Good, good.” He settles back into his seat on the counter. Maybe another forty pages left. He could finish that maybe.
He hears Daisy shuffle around, hears the sink run. It's hard to focus on the book. He gets through maybe three pages before she slumps over him, chin on his head.
“You're warm.”
“Because I'm not running around in that chill in a tank top.”
“You could.” She closes her eyes, Jon just Knows, and more of her weight presses down on Jon's back, a wall of pure muscle barely able to stand under it's own weight while the system crashed after it's adrenaline rush. “Read to me?”
He does, right from where he was.
He's long since learned Daisy just liked listening to his voice. If she was actually curious about the plot he could always lend it to her. He wasn't going to be reading it again anyway.
They get through forty pages quickly, and then he's closing the book and she's barely standing.
“Come on,” He stands and she slumps down to his shoulder. “Shower.”
“Hm-”
“What's Basira going to say if you got to bed like that again. You'll never hear the end of it.”
“You beholding types.” She sighs. “So annoying about flaking blood.”
“I just don't want to do laundry for hours. Again.”
“Lazy.” They shower together, mostly because he has to keep her upright somehow and she's clearly not interested in doing it on her own. They've done this countless times before- fallen into a routine. Their night clothes are clean, neatly folded on the counter by Basira hours ago. “Mm- Jon?”
He turns to look at her and she kisses him like it's an after thought.
“You alright?”
“As much as ever.”
“Let's get you to bed.”
“Are you sure you're not just using me as an excuse to be lazy. Again.”
“That's it.” He sighs and they stumble the rest of the ay to bed, Basira already asleep on her side. Daisy, at the sight of her girlfriend crawls into bed immediately, curling around her. “You've caught me.”
“Stop being dramatic and get in.” She whispers and Jon does, after shutting off the hallway light. The bed isn't really built for three people, but this is the only way Daisy can actually sleep, and the other two love her too much to try and negotiate anything else.
“Good night.” He says again, tugging the blanket up.
But Daisy's already asleep.
Jon is quick to join her.