[ Harrison rolls his eyes at that response. He already knew Cisco hadn't gotten any sleep, so it wasn't really a surprise. Hearing that was similar to getting a shock of static electricity after shuffling across a heavy carpet: shocking, but not completely shocking. He gives Cisco a push on his lower back as he flops, "helping" him get to his bed sooner, and then steps over to the window and draws the blinds. ]
You'll survive. [ A beat. ] Since when have you ever had a normal sleep schedule, anyway?
[ He lets out a snort, straightening a few things up here and there — throwing a pillow back onto the bed (underhanded, so it gracefully lands on top of Cisco), snatching up the coffee mug he'd left on the bedside table this morning (which, in hindsight, seems needlessly cruel, and he's quick to set it outside the door to throw in the dishwasher later), and scooping up a few articles of clothing and tossing them to the side in a pile. At that last question, he glances back over, raising an eyebrow. ]
I don't have anywhere else to go now, do I?
[ Which isn't entirely true. Now that Wally is aware of everything, Joe might be more amenable to letting him crash on his couch for a bit, at least until he worked out something else with an apartment. Snow had a basement. And when in doubt, he could always set himself back up in S.T.A.R. Labs and pull out a cot again. But none of those places really had a "home"-y feel to them. Granted, Cisco's apartment didn't either and in his opinion, it needed a fair amount of fixing up (he distinctly recalls it being cleaner before). But it could be.
Harrison pauses, then sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to pull the pillow off of Cisco and set it back at the head of the bed, before quietly clasping his hands in his lap. He doesn't have to sit there and stare at him until he sleeps, he knows — Cisco isn't him and he'll drift off soon enough. But he does feel responsible on some level. It's a powerful thing. ]
no subject
You'll survive. [ A beat. ] Since when have you ever had a normal sleep schedule, anyway?
[ He lets out a snort, straightening a few things up here and there — throwing a pillow back onto the bed (underhanded, so it gracefully lands on top of Cisco), snatching up the coffee mug he'd left on the bedside table this morning (which, in hindsight, seems needlessly cruel, and he's quick to set it outside the door to throw in the dishwasher later), and scooping up a few articles of clothing and tossing them to the side in a pile. At that last question, he glances back over, raising an eyebrow. ]
I don't have anywhere else to go now, do I?
[ Which isn't entirely true. Now that Wally is aware of everything, Joe might be more amenable to letting him crash on his couch for a bit, at least until he worked out something else with an apartment. Snow had a basement. And when in doubt, he could always set himself back up in S.T.A.R. Labs and pull out a cot again. But none of those places really had a "home"-y feel to them. Granted, Cisco's apartment didn't either and in his opinion, it needed a fair amount of fixing up (he distinctly recalls it being cleaner before). But it could be.
Harrison pauses, then sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to pull the pillow off of Cisco and set it back at the head of the bed, before quietly clasping his hands in his lap. He doesn't have to sit there and stare at him until he sleeps, he knows — Cisco isn't him and he'll drift off soon enough. But he does feel responsible on some level. It's a powerful thing. ]
Yeah. I am.