Visitations

6

In the morning he was gone. Or rather, by the time Naomi woke up the following afternoon, he was long gone. She rolled over, all the way over until she met the other side of the bed. Nope, definitely gone. But his subtle scent remained; imbedded in the sheets for a short while. He never stayed until morning, not since their first night together before he'd brought her home. He'd stay the night, but he was always gone by morning. It was never really a great way to start the day, but for now she could relax surrounded by what little of him remained. A hint of deep woods and fresh air. The subtlest breath of his magic. That was always more of a feeling than a smell, although her mind still classified it like a scent. She could never put it into words regardless.

The memories were still fresh. The aches in her muscles still prominent. Such small mercies kept her mind quiet for just a little while longer. For a few moments longer, she could pretend like he was still there, arms wrapped around her, protecting her from the shit-storm that seemed to constantly surround her nowadays. For a few moments longer, she could live without worry or fear or anger. For a few moments longer, she could just lay there feeling boneless and content without a care in the world.

Of course, she slowly became aware of the reality that surrounded her. Her hair was a mess. Her sheets were tangled and pulled up from the mattress. The room was too warm for her liking. She could hear the TV in the other room. Several long months in a quiet cell made her very fond of the silence. God she missed having her apartment all to herself, without the constant intrusion of concerned family members. Without reporters hounding her every chance they could. Without S.H.I.E.L.D. probing and spying on her every move. Her thoughts too probably.

And with that nauseating thought, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her alarm clock read 12:47pm, which wasn't all that surprising. She didn't recall when they'd stayed up till, but it was nearly morning for sure. She stretched the few hours of sleep from her back, before knotting her fingers in her thoroughly tangled hair. Time to greet the day and whoever was intruding in her living room. She sat up, listening to the sounds of some daytime program about birds. Well it definitely wasn't her mother, at least. Her best guess was Evie. So she did come back after all. With that, she finally pulled herself out of bed to investigate.

And also for food. The smells of homemade breakfast were a wonderful motivator.

She dragged her feet into the kitchen, catching a glance at the back of Evie's head before the remains of whatever she'd cooked up distracted her. Evie could eat like she was twice her size, but this was definitely more than she would've made for just herself. There was enough bacon and scrambled eggs to sink a small boat. "Are we expecting anyone else?" she asked through a mouthful of cold bacon and buttered toast.

"Yea, but I figured she'd wake up eventually."

Naomi threw her a look over her shoulder. "I was up until 4am and you still weren't back, what's your excuse?"

"Well when you didn't come home for dinner or our preplanned movie night – no call, no show – I took up a friend's invitation for a night out. I had plenty of drinks on your behalf; don't worry. Obviously, I couldn't drive back, so I stayed at her place. Looks like it's a good thing I did."

She hadn't passed a mirror on her way out here, but she was pretty sure that a copious amount of sex wasn't evident in her expression – her hair maybe – but Evie always seemed to notice anyway.

"For your information, I got picked up by S.H.I.E.L.D. again last night," she said, filling up a plate with more room temperature breakfast food. "And not surprisingly, they don't have very good cell service." She plopped down beside her on the sofa.

"And S.H.I.E.L.D. had you up until 4am did they?"

Naomi stared at her with an eyebrow raised all the way up to her hairline. She chewed on another piece of bacon, trying to figure her out. Evie didn't look phased. "Oh come on. How do you always know? It's not like he hangs a sock on my door handle."