Snippet #2473365

Jonathan gave a tired half smile at Xiaoyan's motherly dismissal and pushed himself up from his seat, his body swaying slightly because of how long he had been awake. He gave a quick glance up to where he would sleep for the rest of the night and sighed with relief before turning his eyes to Xiaoyan as bowed and began to turn.
"Thank you," he said quietly, though loud enough for her to hear. He had learned the hard way that it's best to be polite in these situations, even if he didn't completely trust those at the receiving end. He watched her small, retreating form then lifted his hand to cover his mouth as a yawn crept up on him.

For a silent second, Jonathan stood looking down at the dark haired woman still there with him after Xiaoyan left. She looked exhausted, as if she'd fall asleep right there on the spot. His eyes lingered for a moment, drawn in by her ethereal glow, before he turned away, conscious of the fact that he was now staring. Focussing on the light from the makeshift houses above them, he cleared his throat softly.
"Well, uh..." he swallowed to wet his throat and started to take a step back. "Goodnight." Nodding, happy that he could at least manage words, he turned slowly and started for the empty house of his choice, a small makeshift hovel with a door in between two already taken homes. The idea of being near the end of the lanterns where it was cold and isolated brought a sense of wariness to the teen. He ran his long fingers through his hair with a sigh and ascended to what he hoped would be a comfortable sleep.

The pungent tang of dampness assaulted his senses as he pushed open the door to the dark dwelling. Jonathan cast an appraising eyes across the walls and floor and gave a tired smile. It wasn't anything special, it wasn't a luxury room, but it didn't matter. He had found what he was looking for. The Priory was everything that he had been looking for all of his life. He lifted the messenger bag from his body and dropped it on the floor, pulled off his boots and threw his coat beside them. He crouched down to the bag and searched through it for the nearly finished candle. The flashlight would have been preferable, but he only had a few batteries to replace it yet. He balanced the candle on the bedside table and stretched with a yawn.

As his eyes fell on the wick, an idea came into his head. He hesitantly lifted his hands. Jonathan's abilities weren't always entirely reliable when he tried to use them in a more refined form. The possibility that he could blow a three, four foot wide hole in the wall was a very real danger. He drew in a breath, and pulled back his hands. He opened his hands in the usual way to use his power but with a twist of his hands. A crackle and flash burst from the wick and a flame came into existence. Jonathan smiled, before lifting the candle and dropping wax to the table and putting the candle into it to add to its stability. Dropping to the surprisingly comfortable bed below him, the teen closed his eyes and let the darkness engulf him, the lingering memories of the day before slowly corrupting his dreams within.