'Incandescent - Part Five' - Adama/Roslin Fic
Title: Incandescent - Part Five (final chapter)
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
A/N: Written for the ever fabulous nixmom's birthday. Her prompt was a fic where we see how/when/ and why Laura falls for BBE Bill. Many thanks to redrockcan for all her encouragement and to bugsfic for her invaluable beta and support.
Part Four is HERE
It was taken some time ago
At first it seems to be
a smeared
print: blurred lines and grey flecks
blended with the paper;
then, as you scan
it, you can see something in the left-hand corner
a thing that is like a branch: part of a tree
(balsam or spruce) emerging
and, to the right, halfway up
what ought to be a gentle
slope, a small frame house.
In the background there is a lake,
and beyond that, some low hills.
(The photograph was taken
the day after I drowned.
I am in the lake, in the center
of the picture, just under the surface.
It is difficult to say where
precisely, or to say
how large or how small I am:
the effect of water
on light is a distortion.
but if you look long enough
eventually
you will see me.)
- Margaret Atwood "This is a Photograph of Me"
Bill hadn’t been long in the CIC. Laura had not expected him to be. She knew that he would find any excuse to come back to his quarters as soon as possible. She figured that he had probably asked Tigh to finish off the rest of his shift as a favor. That both warmed her and frightened her.
Part of her could get used to having such a thoughtful partner. Part of her resented her need for that sort of attentiveness. Then the practical part of her told her that it didn’t matter either way because she would be dead within a few months anyway. The politician in her reminded her that it would be utterly selfish to shack up with her new lover while the rest of the Fleet waited with bated breath for Earth and salvation.
He was back within four hours. Laura had spent the time seriously contemplating what to do. She had weighed all of her options and tried her very best to keep her heart quiet.
She knew that he was falling in love with her. She hadn’t even needed him to vocalize it to confirm her suspicions.
Laura had felt it in his touch and in his kisses. She had felt it in how he had made love to her. In how he had said her name as she had rocked on top of him.
Laura wasn’t ready to admit to him that she felt the same way. She wasn’t even ready to admit the truth to herself: she was falling in love with Bill, more and more every day.
They had consumed a quiet meal at his insistence. She could feel all of what he felt for her as he gazed at her from across the table. After dinner, he cleared the dishes to one side and poured himself a drink.
Presently he was standing in front of her, drink in hand; she was seated at his dinning table. He was assessing the tactics of the situation. Gaging her mood, trying to anticipate her reaction, hoping for a moment of weakness so that he could swoop in and try to win her over.
“Would it be alright if I sat next to you?” He was giving her power. Turning over the ownership of these quarters to her momentarily. Letting her call the shots.
She nodded. He sat carefully in the unoccupied seat next to her. He placed his now empty drink on the table.
“Colonel Tigh offered to take the rest of my shift. He owes me.”
Her suspicions were confirmed.
“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to insist that you don’t need someone to care for you, that you’ve accepted your role, your fate …”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Bill,” she said softly, “it’s more than that. So much more. I couldn’t possibly dedicate the time that you deserve to being your partner. And neither can you. Gods Bill, we couldn’t live with that. Not while the Cylons are still out there, and Earth is still so far away.”
He frowned.
“You know I am right. We could be selfish; we could put ourselves first. But we would hate ourselves for it.” Laura grasped his forearm through the wool of his uniform.
“But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want it.” It was as close as an admission as she could give him. She hoped that he understood the weight of her words.
“So you admit, it was more than just sex?” Bill asked.
She couldn’t help but smile at the adorable grin on his face.
“Yes. But I also admit that I am just not personally ready for this.” He frowned again. “It isn’t you, honestly. I’ve spent a long time without this. And when I realized how little time I had left, I had accepted that it would remain that way forever.”
“That doesn’t have to be the case, Laura,” he pleaded.
“Bill, you were right about what you said earlier. You are my friend. My greatest friend,” she admitted. “I need you to be my friend right now. I don’t regret what’s happened between us, I could never regret that. But I need you to be strong for the Fleet. I can’t have a worried lover by my bedside while 40 000 souls rest on our backs.”
“I regret that I didn’t last longer,” he confessed ruefully.
Laura laughed out loud.
“Bill, considering how long we’ve been skirting around each other, I am surprised that either of us lasted longer than two minutes.”
“I also regret that I never got to see you naked in the candlelight,” he said. He looked mournful.
Laura’s tongue darted out to lick her lower lip.
“I’m here now, tonight,” she said. “Let’s compromise.”
Bill looked at her confused.
She wanted to live before she died. One last time.
“Let’s be selfish, for one night.” Lara said.
“One night,” he clarified.
She nodded silently.
He carefully removed his glasses and set them aside. Taking the hand that still rested on his forearm, he helped her to stand and led her silently to his rack.
“This is what I wanted to do that night,” he whispered as he helped her sit on the edge of his rack.
She sat patiently as he went about scattering candles throughout the cabin and lighting them. Their previous encounter had blunted the urgency of their need. They truly did have all night; her shuttle was not scheduled until 0600 hours tomorrow morning.
Bill turned the main lights off, so that the only source of light came from the soft glow of the candles around them. His dark skin looked radiant in this light; it softened him.
“Undress for me,” she requested. “But take your boots off this time.” She giggled.
He chuckled and bent over to yank the laces free from his boots, which he did in a surprisingly quick manner. He kicked the heavy boots off and away from his rack. Slowly, he began to unbutton his tunic, revealing to her his broad chest and well toned arms. Shucking his jacket off, he reached for his belt and fly, silently divesting of his pants as well.
Laura cocked her head towards his feet. “Socks too please.”
“Picky, picky,” he huffed. But he did what he was told with an affectionate smile before removing his tanks as well. Laura could see his erection through the dark grey of his boxer briefs. She smiled at the memory of his taste, of how good he had felt buried inside of her.
“Come here,” she beckoned.
“Your full of demands tonight,” he said as he sat next to her and kissed her gently. He could feel her giggle as his lips touched hers.
His hands settled themselves on her lower back, encouraging her to lean further into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his probing tongue. His hands un-tucked the shirttails of her blouse and caressed the silken skin he encountered. The sat like that for a few minutes, trading deep, sensual kisses back and forth. Memorizing one another’s taste, etching it into their minds.
Laura softly parted from him and brought her hands to her chest to slowly unbutton the dusty rose shirt and nude coloured bra. Now topless, she moved her hands to her skirt and panties, quickly shimmying out of those as well. Her hands rested on the cotton-clad hip of her lover, silently asking for permission. He shifted in approval, allowing her to strip them from his body.
His erection bobbed free, and Laura couldn’t help but caress him lightly. He groaned as she twisted her wrist around him. He gently stilled her hand.
“Not this time,” he whispered huskily.
He gently encouraged her to lay back on the narrow mattress and settled himself over her. He returned his attention to her lips, her beautiful, full lips. He could spend hours just kissing her. He wished, not for the first time, that he could indulge in that fantasy.
Laura shifted beneath him, intertwining their legs and slowly grinding herself against his thigh. He separated from her mouth with a groan. He devoured her neck and shoulders with kisses. He felt her nails rake gently against his scalp. He shivered; he loved the feeling of her fingers in his hair.
He reached her left breastbone. He placed a gentle kiss above her heart, whispered her name into the skin like an endearment.
Deliberately, he moved down her body. His mouth and hands caressed each new inch of skin. His mind tried frantically to catalogue everything at once; her scent, her taste, the way she arched her back when he reached the spot just below her navel, the pitch and tone of her voice.
Mindful of the narrow rack, he gently tugged her until she was half reclined, with her legs dangling from the bedding. Parting her thighs, he settled himself comfortably at her center while kneeling on the hard floor of his cabin.
Laura bit her lower lip in anticipation as he rested her her right leg on his shoulder, opening her up to him. It had been a very long time since a man had done this for her. Toward the end of their affair, Richard had been content with skipping foreplay all together. And honestly, he had never approached this kind of intimacy with any great enthusiasm.
Bill traced her folds with the tips of his fingers, not even penetrating her yet. He lowered his head to place kisses along the inside of her thighs, the top of her hipbones. He could smell her arousal, he could see how wet she was for him.
“Bill,” his name was a soft sigh.
She was beautiful. The petals of her sex were flushed a deep crimson, her clitoris was engorged and begging for his attention; he placed a soft kiss against it.
Her reaction was instantaneous.
“Gods, Bill!” she moaned loudly. Her hands searched for something to hold onto, finding purchase in the sheets by her side.
He chuckled, low and softly, at her response to him. He swirled one finger at her opening, gathering her moisture and spreading it up to her sensitive nub.
Her grip on the bedding tightened.
His tongue fluttered out to taste her for the first time. He dragged it from her opening up to her clit, before sucking it lightly into his mouth. She tasted incredible; she was rich and sweet, and at the moment, entirely his.
Encouraged by her reactions, he lightly lapped at her clitoris while his fingers teased her opening. Easing one finger inside of her, he gave her clit a drawn out suck.
“Aah,” she hissed. He inserted a second finger into her and began moving in and out of her tight opening. Her hips started working against the rhythmic thrusting of his fingers; her head lolled from side to side, her teeth sunk into her lower lip.
He lifted his head and placed sweet, wet kisses along her thighs and hips once again.
“So beautiful, Laura. My Laura,” he murmured against her before lowering his mouth to taste her again. He captured her swollen clit between his lips and sucked lightly, flicking his tongue over the engorged head.
She whimpered in response. Her entire body coiled with pleasure, her hips moved restlessly. Her back arched.
He crooked his fingers upwards, finding that sweet spot within her and thrust more purposefully. Her right hand flew from its spot on the bed to his upper arm; her nails dug into his skin as her pleasure ripped through her. He could feel her inner muscles spasm around his fingers; he continued to work them inside of her to prolong her orgasm.
When he felt her begin to relax, he slowly withdrew his digits and licked her arousal off of them. Placing one last kiss to her clitoris, he gently withdrew her leg from his shoulder.
“Hey,” he whispered into the skin of her stomach as he rose from his position on his knees. He peppered her torso with kisses until he was face to face with her. He kissed her sweaty brow. Gently, he scooped her into his arms and lay her flat against he rack and arranged them so they lay facing one another.
Her eyes were still closed, she was breathing deeply and evenly. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Mmm,” was her only her only response. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. With trembling hands, she cupped his craggy cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him softly. She encouraged him to move on top of her, placing her hands on his hips and spreading her legs apart.
“Let me feel you,” she panted. Unable to deny them any longer, he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly sunk into her.
Her legs came to wrap around his hips. One hand rested on his lower back, the other caressed the side of his face.
He supported most of his weight on his forearms, wincing slightly as he was putting strain on his injured shoulder.
She clenched around him, and squeezed her legs, encouraging him to move inside of her. He set a slow, languid, tempo and moved blissfully in and out of her. Unable to help himself, he captured her lips in a set of deep, sensual kisses.
The candlelight glowed around them, highlighting the light film of sweat on their bodies. Bill dropped his head in the crook of her neck, panting with the effort not to come. He didn’t want this to end so quickly; he didn’t want this to ever end.
He felt her quake around his cock gently as a smaller orgasm coursed through her. His name fell from her lips in a delicate sigh and he was lost. Grunting into her neck and shoulder, he came, buried deep inside of her.
Mindful of his bulk, he rolled off of her, still panting.
“Gods Bill, your shoulder.” The bandage was spotted with tiny red dots from when he had strained it.
“I’m fine,” he huffed. She molded herself into his open arms and sighed contently in his embrace. She rested her head against his chest, and traced her fingertips over the deep red of his scar.
“It’s ugly, I know,” he apologized self-consciously.
“No.” She shook her head gently. “It’s you.”
She placed a kiss against the marred skin.
He ran his hands up and down the length of her back before drawing the sheets up to cover them both.
“This is a word we use to plugholes with. It's the right size for those warm blanks in speech, for those red heart-shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing like real hearts,” he quoted softly.
“I was reading her work earlier,” she said.
“I know.” He kissed the top of her head, pausing. “Do you ever think about that small cabin? What it represents?” he asked her.
“Loss,” she answered. “The loss of a home, a place that once contained so much love, but now exists only in scattered ashes.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed. “But maybe there is something more.”
“Like what?” She lifted her head slightly to look into his eyes.
“Hope. Life rises from the ashes. Love is never lost. It manifests itself in different forms, in different lifetimes. That is the truth; that is what the poet realizes is left in the blackened earth.”
“Hope,” she repeated, resting her head against him once more. A sad smile graced her features.
“Never give up hope, Laura,” he rasped.
He would never give up on her.
The candles burnt low; their glow become gradually dimmer in the cabin.
Bill contented himself with brushing her auburn locks with his fingers. He admired the way the light caught the fiery red in the strands as it slipped between his fingers. Laura’s breathing become more rhythmic; he could feel the warm puff of each exhale against his heart.
Brushing her hair back from her face, Bill saw that she had fallen asleep. For the first time since he had met her, she looked at peace. He placed a soft kiss against her forehead. His eyelids grew heavy but he fought the urge to follow her into slumber.
He wanted to see her in the candlelight for as long as he could.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
A/N: Written for the ever fabulous nixmom's birthday. Her prompt was a fic where we see how/when/ and why Laura falls for BBE Bill. Many thanks to redrockcan for all her encouragement and to bugsfic for her invaluable beta and support.
Part Four is HERE
It was taken some time ago
At first it seems to be
a smeared
print: blurred lines and grey flecks
blended with the paper;
then, as you scan
it, you can see something in the left-hand corner
a thing that is like a branch: part of a tree
(balsam or spruce) emerging
and, to the right, halfway up
what ought to be a gentle
slope, a small frame house.
In the background there is a lake,
and beyond that, some low hills.
(The photograph was taken
the day after I drowned.
I am in the lake, in the center
of the picture, just under the surface.
It is difficult to say where
precisely, or to say
how large or how small I am:
the effect of water
on light is a distortion.
but if you look long enough
eventually
you will see me.)
- Margaret Atwood "This is a Photograph of Me"
Bill hadn’t been long in the CIC. Laura had not expected him to be. She knew that he would find any excuse to come back to his quarters as soon as possible. She figured that he had probably asked Tigh to finish off the rest of his shift as a favor. That both warmed her and frightened her.
Part of her could get used to having such a thoughtful partner. Part of her resented her need for that sort of attentiveness. Then the practical part of her told her that it didn’t matter either way because she would be dead within a few months anyway. The politician in her reminded her that it would be utterly selfish to shack up with her new lover while the rest of the Fleet waited with bated breath for Earth and salvation.
He was back within four hours. Laura had spent the time seriously contemplating what to do. She had weighed all of her options and tried her very best to keep her heart quiet.
She knew that he was falling in love with her. She hadn’t even needed him to vocalize it to confirm her suspicions.
Laura had felt it in his touch and in his kisses. She had felt it in how he had made love to her. In how he had said her name as she had rocked on top of him.
Laura wasn’t ready to admit to him that she felt the same way. She wasn’t even ready to admit the truth to herself: she was falling in love with Bill, more and more every day.
They had consumed a quiet meal at his insistence. She could feel all of what he felt for her as he gazed at her from across the table. After dinner, he cleared the dishes to one side and poured himself a drink.
Presently he was standing in front of her, drink in hand; she was seated at his dinning table. He was assessing the tactics of the situation. Gaging her mood, trying to anticipate her reaction, hoping for a moment of weakness so that he could swoop in and try to win her over.
“Would it be alright if I sat next to you?” He was giving her power. Turning over the ownership of these quarters to her momentarily. Letting her call the shots.
She nodded. He sat carefully in the unoccupied seat next to her. He placed his now empty drink on the table.
“Colonel Tigh offered to take the rest of my shift. He owes me.”
Her suspicions were confirmed.
“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to insist that you don’t need someone to care for you, that you’ve accepted your role, your fate …”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Bill,” she said softly, “it’s more than that. So much more. I couldn’t possibly dedicate the time that you deserve to being your partner. And neither can you. Gods Bill, we couldn’t live with that. Not while the Cylons are still out there, and Earth is still so far away.”
He frowned.
“You know I am right. We could be selfish; we could put ourselves first. But we would hate ourselves for it.” Laura grasped his forearm through the wool of his uniform.
“But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want it.” It was as close as an admission as she could give him. She hoped that he understood the weight of her words.
“So you admit, it was more than just sex?” Bill asked.
She couldn’t help but smile at the adorable grin on his face.
“Yes. But I also admit that I am just not personally ready for this.” He frowned again. “It isn’t you, honestly. I’ve spent a long time without this. And when I realized how little time I had left, I had accepted that it would remain that way forever.”
“That doesn’t have to be the case, Laura,” he pleaded.
“Bill, you were right about what you said earlier. You are my friend. My greatest friend,” she admitted. “I need you to be my friend right now. I don’t regret what’s happened between us, I could never regret that. But I need you to be strong for the Fleet. I can’t have a worried lover by my bedside while 40 000 souls rest on our backs.”
“I regret that I didn’t last longer,” he confessed ruefully.
Laura laughed out loud.
“Bill, considering how long we’ve been skirting around each other, I am surprised that either of us lasted longer than two minutes.”
“I also regret that I never got to see you naked in the candlelight,” he said. He looked mournful.
Laura’s tongue darted out to lick her lower lip.
“I’m here now, tonight,” she said. “Let’s compromise.”
Bill looked at her confused.
She wanted to live before she died. One last time.
“Let’s be selfish, for one night.” Lara said.
“One night,” he clarified.
She nodded silently.
He carefully removed his glasses and set them aside. Taking the hand that still rested on his forearm, he helped her to stand and led her silently to his rack.
“This is what I wanted to do that night,” he whispered as he helped her sit on the edge of his rack.
She sat patiently as he went about scattering candles throughout the cabin and lighting them. Their previous encounter had blunted the urgency of their need. They truly did have all night; her shuttle was not scheduled until 0600 hours tomorrow morning.
Bill turned the main lights off, so that the only source of light came from the soft glow of the candles around them. His dark skin looked radiant in this light; it softened him.
“Undress for me,” she requested. “But take your boots off this time.” She giggled.
He chuckled and bent over to yank the laces free from his boots, which he did in a surprisingly quick manner. He kicked the heavy boots off and away from his rack. Slowly, he began to unbutton his tunic, revealing to her his broad chest and well toned arms. Shucking his jacket off, he reached for his belt and fly, silently divesting of his pants as well.
Laura cocked her head towards his feet. “Socks too please.”
“Picky, picky,” he huffed. But he did what he was told with an affectionate smile before removing his tanks as well. Laura could see his erection through the dark grey of his boxer briefs. She smiled at the memory of his taste, of how good he had felt buried inside of her.
“Come here,” she beckoned.
“Your full of demands tonight,” he said as he sat next to her and kissed her gently. He could feel her giggle as his lips touched hers.
His hands settled themselves on her lower back, encouraging her to lean further into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his probing tongue. His hands un-tucked the shirttails of her blouse and caressed the silken skin he encountered. The sat like that for a few minutes, trading deep, sensual kisses back and forth. Memorizing one another’s taste, etching it into their minds.
Laura softly parted from him and brought her hands to her chest to slowly unbutton the dusty rose shirt and nude coloured bra. Now topless, she moved her hands to her skirt and panties, quickly shimmying out of those as well. Her hands rested on the cotton-clad hip of her lover, silently asking for permission. He shifted in approval, allowing her to strip them from his body.
His erection bobbed free, and Laura couldn’t help but caress him lightly. He groaned as she twisted her wrist around him. He gently stilled her hand.
“Not this time,” he whispered huskily.
He gently encouraged her to lay back on the narrow mattress and settled himself over her. He returned his attention to her lips, her beautiful, full lips. He could spend hours just kissing her. He wished, not for the first time, that he could indulge in that fantasy.
Laura shifted beneath him, intertwining their legs and slowly grinding herself against his thigh. He separated from her mouth with a groan. He devoured her neck and shoulders with kisses. He felt her nails rake gently against his scalp. He shivered; he loved the feeling of her fingers in his hair.
He reached her left breastbone. He placed a gentle kiss above her heart, whispered her name into the skin like an endearment.
Deliberately, he moved down her body. His mouth and hands caressed each new inch of skin. His mind tried frantically to catalogue everything at once; her scent, her taste, the way she arched her back when he reached the spot just below her navel, the pitch and tone of her voice.
Mindful of the narrow rack, he gently tugged her until she was half reclined, with her legs dangling from the bedding. Parting her thighs, he settled himself comfortably at her center while kneeling on the hard floor of his cabin.
Laura bit her lower lip in anticipation as he rested her her right leg on his shoulder, opening her up to him. It had been a very long time since a man had done this for her. Toward the end of their affair, Richard had been content with skipping foreplay all together. And honestly, he had never approached this kind of intimacy with any great enthusiasm.
Bill traced her folds with the tips of his fingers, not even penetrating her yet. He lowered his head to place kisses along the inside of her thighs, the top of her hipbones. He could smell her arousal, he could see how wet she was for him.
“Bill,” his name was a soft sigh.
She was beautiful. The petals of her sex were flushed a deep crimson, her clitoris was engorged and begging for his attention; he placed a soft kiss against it.
Her reaction was instantaneous.
“Gods, Bill!” she moaned loudly. Her hands searched for something to hold onto, finding purchase in the sheets by her side.
He chuckled, low and softly, at her response to him. He swirled one finger at her opening, gathering her moisture and spreading it up to her sensitive nub.
Her grip on the bedding tightened.
His tongue fluttered out to taste her for the first time. He dragged it from her opening up to her clit, before sucking it lightly into his mouth. She tasted incredible; she was rich and sweet, and at the moment, entirely his.
Encouraged by her reactions, he lightly lapped at her clitoris while his fingers teased her opening. Easing one finger inside of her, he gave her clit a drawn out suck.
“Aah,” she hissed. He inserted a second finger into her and began moving in and out of her tight opening. Her hips started working against the rhythmic thrusting of his fingers; her head lolled from side to side, her teeth sunk into her lower lip.
He lifted his head and placed sweet, wet kisses along her thighs and hips once again.
“So beautiful, Laura. My Laura,” he murmured against her before lowering his mouth to taste her again. He captured her swollen clit between his lips and sucked lightly, flicking his tongue over the engorged head.
She whimpered in response. Her entire body coiled with pleasure, her hips moved restlessly. Her back arched.
He crooked his fingers upwards, finding that sweet spot within her and thrust more purposefully. Her right hand flew from its spot on the bed to his upper arm; her nails dug into his skin as her pleasure ripped through her. He could feel her inner muscles spasm around his fingers; he continued to work them inside of her to prolong her orgasm.
When he felt her begin to relax, he slowly withdrew his digits and licked her arousal off of them. Placing one last kiss to her clitoris, he gently withdrew her leg from his shoulder.
“Hey,” he whispered into the skin of her stomach as he rose from his position on his knees. He peppered her torso with kisses until he was face to face with her. He kissed her sweaty brow. Gently, he scooped her into his arms and lay her flat against he rack and arranged them so they lay facing one another.
Her eyes were still closed, she was breathing deeply and evenly. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Mmm,” was her only her only response. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. With trembling hands, she cupped his craggy cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him softly. She encouraged him to move on top of her, placing her hands on his hips and spreading her legs apart.
“Let me feel you,” she panted. Unable to deny them any longer, he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly sunk into her.
Her legs came to wrap around his hips. One hand rested on his lower back, the other caressed the side of his face.
He supported most of his weight on his forearms, wincing slightly as he was putting strain on his injured shoulder.
She clenched around him, and squeezed her legs, encouraging him to move inside of her. He set a slow, languid, tempo and moved blissfully in and out of her. Unable to help himself, he captured her lips in a set of deep, sensual kisses.
The candlelight glowed around them, highlighting the light film of sweat on their bodies. Bill dropped his head in the crook of her neck, panting with the effort not to come. He didn’t want this to end so quickly; he didn’t want this to ever end.
He felt her quake around his cock gently as a smaller orgasm coursed through her. His name fell from her lips in a delicate sigh and he was lost. Grunting into her neck and shoulder, he came, buried deep inside of her.
Mindful of his bulk, he rolled off of her, still panting.
“Gods Bill, your shoulder.” The bandage was spotted with tiny red dots from when he had strained it.
“I’m fine,” he huffed. She molded herself into his open arms and sighed contently in his embrace. She rested her head against his chest, and traced her fingertips over the deep red of his scar.
“It’s ugly, I know,” he apologized self-consciously.
“No.” She shook her head gently. “It’s you.”
She placed a kiss against the marred skin.
He ran his hands up and down the length of her back before drawing the sheets up to cover them both.
“This is a word we use to plugholes with. It's the right size for those warm blanks in speech, for those red heart-shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing like real hearts,” he quoted softly.
“I was reading her work earlier,” she said.
“I know.” He kissed the top of her head, pausing. “Do you ever think about that small cabin? What it represents?” he asked her.
“Loss,” she answered. “The loss of a home, a place that once contained so much love, but now exists only in scattered ashes.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed. “But maybe there is something more.”
“Like what?” She lifted her head slightly to look into his eyes.
“Hope. Life rises from the ashes. Love is never lost. It manifests itself in different forms, in different lifetimes. That is the truth; that is what the poet realizes is left in the blackened earth.”
“Hope,” she repeated, resting her head against him once more. A sad smile graced her features.
“Never give up hope, Laura,” he rasped.
He would never give up on her.
The candles burnt low; their glow become gradually dimmer in the cabin.
Bill contented himself with brushing her auburn locks with his fingers. He admired the way the light caught the fiery red in the strands as it slipped between his fingers. Laura’s breathing become more rhythmic; he could feel the warm puff of each exhale against his heart.
Brushing her hair back from her face, Bill saw that she had fallen asleep. For the first time since he had met her, she looked at peace. He placed a soft kiss against her forehead. His eyelids grew heavy but he fought the urge to follow her into slumber.
He wanted to see her in the candlelight for as long as he could.