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Entry tags:
Comfortable
Title: Comfortable
Fandom: Ib
Character(s): Ib, Garry
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 525
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: The scratch marks seemed to spell out 'get closer'.
Notes: For Kink Bingo, confined/caged. I guess you could read Garry/Ib if you wanted to.
For what felt like the hundredth time already, Ib tested the door. Locked, despite them having spent only a moment in the small room before trying to exit. Sighing, she turned back to Garry, and shook her head.
Garry was sitting in the chair that was this room's only feature besides the scribbling on the walls, since there was hardly room for him to stand. The ceiling was too low for him. "Not a bit of luck, huh? What if we used the chair to break the door open?"
"You tried moving it already," Ib reminded him. "It's bolted to the floor."
"Oh... I guess that won't work." Garry frowned and turned himself around to peer at the walls of the room. The scratch marks seemed to spell out 'get closer'. "Usually they would have attacked us by now. I guess there's no way for them to break into here, either."
Ib wasn't sure about that. However, her feet were getting sore from standing in one spot for so long. She slowly maneuvered herself into a sitting position in front of Garry's chair.
"Getting tired? Come on, I'll trade you. This chair is actually pretty comfortable, or at least it is compared to the floor." Garry tried to get up, and banged his head against the ceiling in the process. "Ow."
Ib frowned at him severely as she got back up. "Don't try it. Sit back down, okay? I have an idea."
He looked confused, but did as she said, plopping back down into the chair and rubbing his head where he'd hit it.
Without much warning, she sat down in his lap, leaning her back against his chest. "This is better."
"You're right." Garry wrapped his arms loosely around her. "I wish I'd thought of that before I tried standing up, though... You're much smarter than me."
Ib shook her head. "I'm not. ...You're comfortable."
"More than the floor is?" he teased.
"A lot more."
They sat like that for a few moments before Garry perked his head up. "Did you hear a click? Like the lock being undone?"
She frowned. "I heard it too, but..."
"But?" Garry asked. When she hesitated to answer, he pressed, "Ib, did you hear something else? You can tell me-"
"I don't want to get up." She leaned further back against him.
"...Well, all right. A little while longer. Truth be told, I don't mind this either."
Another, longer silence settled between them, a more comfortable silence than most of the ones they'd had in the gallery, where they were always on edge for something else to happen at any moment.
"Ib... I have to ask you something," Garry began.
She tilted her neck up to look at him.
"Do you use perfume?" he asked. "I keep getting a whiff of something."
She shook her head. "Mom and I use the same shampoo. Rose-scented." She paused. "I think after I get back I'm going to ask for a different kind."
He chuckled. "That's probably a good idea."
They stayed like that until Garry's legs were on the verge of falling asleep. Then, unfortunately, they had to press onward.
Fandom: Ib
Character(s): Ib, Garry
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 525
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: The scratch marks seemed to spell out 'get closer'.
Notes: For Kink Bingo, confined/caged. I guess you could read Garry/Ib if you wanted to.
For what felt like the hundredth time already, Ib tested the door. Locked, despite them having spent only a moment in the small room before trying to exit. Sighing, she turned back to Garry, and shook her head.
Garry was sitting in the chair that was this room's only feature besides the scribbling on the walls, since there was hardly room for him to stand. The ceiling was too low for him. "Not a bit of luck, huh? What if we used the chair to break the door open?"
"You tried moving it already," Ib reminded him. "It's bolted to the floor."
"Oh... I guess that won't work." Garry frowned and turned himself around to peer at the walls of the room. The scratch marks seemed to spell out 'get closer'. "Usually they would have attacked us by now. I guess there's no way for them to break into here, either."
Ib wasn't sure about that. However, her feet were getting sore from standing in one spot for so long. She slowly maneuvered herself into a sitting position in front of Garry's chair.
"Getting tired? Come on, I'll trade you. This chair is actually pretty comfortable, or at least it is compared to the floor." Garry tried to get up, and banged his head against the ceiling in the process. "Ow."
Ib frowned at him severely as she got back up. "Don't try it. Sit back down, okay? I have an idea."
He looked confused, but did as she said, plopping back down into the chair and rubbing his head where he'd hit it.
Without much warning, she sat down in his lap, leaning her back against his chest. "This is better."
"You're right." Garry wrapped his arms loosely around her. "I wish I'd thought of that before I tried standing up, though... You're much smarter than me."
Ib shook her head. "I'm not. ...You're comfortable."
"More than the floor is?" he teased.
"A lot more."
They sat like that for a few moments before Garry perked his head up. "Did you hear a click? Like the lock being undone?"
She frowned. "I heard it too, but..."
"But?" Garry asked. When she hesitated to answer, he pressed, "Ib, did you hear something else? You can tell me-"
"I don't want to get up." She leaned further back against him.
"...Well, all right. A little while longer. Truth be told, I don't mind this either."
Another, longer silence settled between them, a more comfortable silence than most of the ones they'd had in the gallery, where they were always on edge for something else to happen at any moment.
"Ib... I have to ask you something," Garry began.
She tilted her neck up to look at him.
"Do you use perfume?" he asked. "I keep getting a whiff of something."
She shook her head. "Mom and I use the same shampoo. Rose-scented." She paused. "I think after I get back I'm going to ask for a different kind."
He chuckled. "That's probably a good idea."
They stayed like that until Garry's legs were on the verge of falling asleep. Then, unfortunately, they had to press onward.
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