That's why I know you'll survive if you sleep for awhile.
[ Not one to back down from a challenge, Harrison slides his hand over to Cisco's, putting it over his. After a few minutes pass, he gives it a brief squeeze and stands, walking out of the room and closing the door quietly, and then shuffles off to put the dishes in the dishwasher. With any luck, Cisco would sleep until around dinnertime — hopefully anyway. Which raises the question of dinner. Under any other circumstance, Harrison would be quick to order takeout for the two of them and let that be that. But deep down inside, he still feels some amount of guilt over the last 24 hours. He'd have to make it up to Snow and Allen in some other way, but for Cisco . . .
Harrison opens up his fridge and immediately makes a face. It had been filled the last time they were there but then again, Jesse had done most of the shopping as the two of them wanted her to feel comfortable. Now— he wasn't even going to contemplate what he could possibly do with the current contents. With a sigh, he snatches Cisco's keys up from the counter and heads out to the van, pulling his baseball cap out of his backpack. An hour and one grocery run later, Harrison heads back into Cisco's place with his bags as well as a few bags of groceries. He sets his backpack and dufflebag near the master bedroom, to the side of the door, and then starts to put a few of the items away while setting some others to the side.
His eyes briefly flick over to his bags — namely, the dufflebag, the one he'd had shoved unceremoniously into his arms before he was brought back over. He hadn't really had the chance to go through it and take a look at the contents. Cisco would still be out for a bit; he could easily take his bags to the guest room and unpack there until they figured out a better arrangement, see for himself what Jesse had told Garrick to grab. But today had been exhausting enough already.
He shakes his head, turning back to the ingredients on the counter and starts working on a pasta — chopping up some tomatoes and onions, boiling the noodles, fixing up some ground beef to mix in. At one point, he stops eying the clock and mentally calculating how many hours Cisco has been out, focusing instead on stirring the sauce while the oven heats up, garlic bread slowly starting to brown. It had been awhile since he'd had the chance to cook — really, since he'd felt like cooking. There was something invigorating about it all. ]
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[ Not one to back down from a challenge, Harrison slides his hand over to Cisco's, putting it over his. After a few minutes pass, he gives it a brief squeeze and stands, walking out of the room and closing the door quietly, and then shuffles off to put the dishes in the dishwasher. With any luck, Cisco would sleep until around dinnertime — hopefully anyway. Which raises the question of dinner. Under any other circumstance, Harrison would be quick to order takeout for the two of them and let that be that. But deep down inside, he still feels some amount of guilt over the last 24 hours. He'd have to make it up to Snow and Allen in some other way, but for Cisco . . .
Harrison opens up his fridge and immediately makes a face. It had been filled the last time they were there but then again, Jesse had done most of the shopping as the two of them wanted her to feel comfortable. Now— he wasn't even going to contemplate what he could possibly do with the current contents. With a sigh, he snatches Cisco's keys up from the counter and heads out to the van, pulling his baseball cap out of his backpack. An hour and one grocery run later, Harrison heads back into Cisco's place with his bags as well as a few bags of groceries. He sets his backpack and dufflebag near the master bedroom, to the side of the door, and then starts to put a few of the items away while setting some others to the side.
His eyes briefly flick over to his bags — namely, the dufflebag, the one he'd had shoved unceremoniously into his arms before he was brought back over. He hadn't really had the chance to go through it and take a look at the contents. Cisco would still be out for a bit; he could easily take his bags to the guest room and unpack there until they figured out a better arrangement, see for himself what Jesse had told Garrick to grab. But today had been exhausting enough already.
He shakes his head, turning back to the ingredients on the counter and starts working on a pasta — chopping up some tomatoes and onions, boiling the noodles, fixing up some ground beef to mix in. At one point, he stops eying the clock and mentally calculating how many hours Cisco has been out, focusing instead on stirring the sauce while the oven heats up, garlic bread slowly starting to brown. It had been awhile since he'd had the chance to cook — really, since he'd felt like cooking. There was something invigorating about it all. ]