xp_logs | Cuteness, even in the angst, and as always, angst in the cute. Its NOT like a peanut butter cup. (Reply)

Doug and Angie, this morning, herding the ~~cats~~ younger children.

There was something just slightly heavy on her waist, and a very soft tickle at the back of her neck and the sounds of small children starting to stir, which if anyone asked, is what woke up Marie-Ange. It was certainly not the comfortable warmth behind her, although it might've been the vague crick in her back from sleeping on a couch.

As she stirred, the weight on her waist came into focus as an arm, Doug's arm to be specific, wrapped over her in a gentle hug. Marie-Ange stilled, trying to slip out from under the arm without waking him. She could afford to lose sleep, but he could stand a few more minutes if she could help it.

Doug mumbled in his sleep and clung tighter with the arm around Marie-Ange's waist. It was definitly going to be impossible to wiggle out without waking him up, she decided. Doug had a much stronger grip than she expected. A few more minutes of quiet wouldn't hurt either of them, and none of the children who had fallen asleep in piles of blankets and pillows were up and moving yet.

Doug, for his part, snuggled closer, spooning up to Marie-Ange, his chin practically resting on her shoulder as his breath blew slightly in her ear. He settled back down, breathing evenly.

A quiet beeping, from a watch alarm, dragged her out of the last of her sleepiness, as one of the children sat up, looking around. Marie-Ange held up a finger over her mouth, to try to indicate that the boy should be quiet, then tugged very gently on Doug's arm, hoping that she could slip off the couch before he was fully awake.

Doug frowned slightly as Marie-Ange slipped out, but he let her loose, curling into the warm spot she left behind. The boy who had woken up was joined quickly by two more of his peers, all three giggling quietly as Marie-Ange pulled a blanket over Doug. The handful of other children soon followed, stirring quietly as the noises of pillows and blankets being gathered grew louder.

The increase in noise level brought Doug to a slightly more waking state. He raised his head from where it lay on a couch pillow, tousled hair going in several directions as he looked around confusedly, brain still fuzzed.

Marie-Ange reached out, just at the last minute, to snag the edge of a pillowcase, before it, and the pillow it contained could be used to blungeon Doug into waking. "Non. No hitting. Let him be." She whisperedly harshly to a pair of guilty-looking children. "Go get dressed, we still have classes today." She led the two by the arm to the hallway, and stood there, watching as they walked back to their rooms.

Doug stretched his arms over his head in a prodigous yawn as he sat up, then 'oof'ed as Miles and Artie tag-teamed him back into the couch cushions Doug grinned and wrapped an arm around each boy. "G'morning, guys. How'd you sleep?" Miles smiled. "Miles and Artie slept well. Doug has funny hair in the morning." Doug chuckled. "Not like you don't see it every morning, silly." He ruffled Artie's own slightly mussed hair.

Artie grinned, and gestured at Doug, making the universal 'Cootie-shot' sign, then poked himself and Miles with his fingers. "Artie says Doug has cooties, like Jamie.", Miles said, giggling.

Doug cocked his head confusedly. "Cooties? Huh?" He looked up at Marie-Ange, as if asking her to explain what the boys meant.

Artie frowned, and pointed at Marie-Ange, gesturing carefully in sign.

Doug looked very intently at Artie, since with Miles clinging to his other side, he couldn't count on his mutant power, and instead had to rely on his own learned knowledge of sign language. "I have cooties because I..." He blinked and looked up at Marie-Ange for confirmation.

Marie-Ange finished dumping the remains of a bowl of popcorn in the trash, and looked at Doug. "You have cooties? I can't possibly imagine why." She said, grinning playfully.

Doug looked down at the couch confusedly. "Did I...and you...?" He blinked as his mouth opened and closed a few times. His brain still wasn't tracking on all cylinders.

The playful grin stayed on her face, as Marie-Ange sorted through the tangle of blankets and sleeping bags. "You make a very comfortable pillow." She stuck her tongue out at Artie, who returned the gesture with a flicker of his own. "You boys know cooties are contagious, yes? You should go get dressed before you catch them from Doug."

Doug laughed at how quickly Artie and Miles made themselves scarce pelting for the stairs. Remaining seated, he stretched again and attempted to tame his bed-head while also attempting to wake up more.

"Did you sleep well?" The question was slightly muffled by the sleeping bag Marie-Ange was attempting to roll into a tight bundle for one of the smallest children.

"I think so, from the way I don't really remember falling asleep." Doug blushed. "Did...did you sleep well?"

Marie-Ange handed the rolled-up sleeping bag over to the girl, and gestured towards the door. "Yes. Better than I expected. No dreams." She pushed away a frown, and sat down on the floor, leaning against the couch.

Doug's eyes narrowed at the frown. "Angie?" He placed a hand tentatively on her shoulder. "You all right?"

"Yes. Just worried about all this. It never stops, does it?" She reached up to clutch at Doug's fingers.

Doug sighed. "I don't think it does, no. I wish I had something profound to say that would make it better, but I don't." He squeezed Marie-Ange's hand in his.

Normal English was not going to properly express how she felt about this, nor would French. "This sucks." Marie-Ange said, scowling. "It _fucking_ sucks."

Doug blinked momentarily at Marie-Ange's unexpected profanity, but then he nodded sadly. "It really does."