[musesandlyrics] 1.2 - I Could Hold On Forever
(Anna is hitchhiker_girl and, as always, used with love and permission. Directly follows this.)
"Never underestimate the power of passion." ~Eve Sawyer
Randall moved from the couch with Anna in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. He dropped his forehead to hers as he moved for the bedroom, and he sighed. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay." Her hands cupped his face and her lips pressed against his skin.
He set her down on the bed, then shut the door to keep the cat out, before returning to her. She was on her back watching up at him, and he stopped to pull his shirt over his head. She sat up to undo the fly of his jeans, then he leaned in against her and pushed her onto her back again. She pulled him over her and he kissed her slowly while his hand slipped under her shirt.
Her arms wrapped around him and her hands moved along his back. He pulled out of the kiss, his lips pulling at her bottom lip slightly, before searching for more skin. Her head tilted as he started kissing her neck, her throat, and down her chest. He heard her soft moan and started to push her pants off her hips. He needed as much of her as he could get. He wanted all of her.
The truth was, he didn't know why he had asked her to move in. Not that he'd be against it, but he also knew it was too soon for them. He knew that the place they were in, the way things were, was really great. He knew changing that could do damage. He knew it wasn't what she wanted.
But there was a desperation in him. A desperation to not lose someone else so important to him. Thoughts that he couldn't shut off ever since he had woken up in the hospital, and started to remember the accident. He remembered the fear in Frankie's eyes. The fear in his own heart as the car skidded across the road, and his wonder if that was it. An instant of thought that Frankie could die. Not a moment of concern for himself, but only for his son.
He started to realize that anything could happen, and anything could end. Things he normally didn't think about or harp on raced through his daily thoughts. And it hurt. He didn't trust himself alone with Frankie. He called his mom and sisters every day. And Anna...he only wanted her there. Close. Because the fucked up logic was, if he could keep her close he wouldn't lose her.
Of course he knew it was crazy. He very well knew that her living there couldn't keep her from leaving. Heather was proof of that. But the question popped out on it's own. Not even a question, it was a beg. A needy beg of her to stay. Not in the literal sense, of course. He knew she had to travel, but...he needed her to stay his.
So came the words.
And the talking.
The almost argument.
And now she was in his arms, and her body was moving with his. Her hand was grasped with his, and their fingers threaded together. And this was all he needed. Her. Them. A hope that they could keep on being them, and he could continue holding her whenever she came to him. He had promised to be her place, and even if she didn't know it, she was his. And deep down, he knew that didn't mean that they had to live in the same place, because it didn't matter where they were. They were home even if she wasn't there.
Her name sounded on his lips and she gripped him tighter. He kissed her hard and didn't let her go just yet. He wanted to wait for her, because he wanted her to feel everything he felt. Moments later their bodies froze in pause together before he gently dropped down against her. After catching his breath he moved off of her, but kept close, looping his arm around her waist. She turned to him and let her fingers brush against his neck.
He watched her sleepy eyes drift shut and brushed his lips to hers. A happy sigh came from her throat, which only turned his lips up contently. "I love you, gorgeous," he murmured.
"Mmm," she settled close. "Love you, too."
This was his place.
720
"Never underestimate the power of passion." ~Eve Sawyer
Randall moved from the couch with Anna in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. He dropped his forehead to hers as he moved for the bedroom, and he sighed. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay." Her hands cupped his face and her lips pressed against his skin.
He set her down on the bed, then shut the door to keep the cat out, before returning to her. She was on her back watching up at him, and he stopped to pull his shirt over his head. She sat up to undo the fly of his jeans, then he leaned in against her and pushed her onto her back again. She pulled him over her and he kissed her slowly while his hand slipped under her shirt.
Her arms wrapped around him and her hands moved along his back. He pulled out of the kiss, his lips pulling at her bottom lip slightly, before searching for more skin. Her head tilted as he started kissing her neck, her throat, and down her chest. He heard her soft moan and started to push her pants off her hips. He needed as much of her as he could get. He wanted all of her.
The truth was, he didn't know why he had asked her to move in. Not that he'd be against it, but he also knew it was too soon for them. He knew that the place they were in, the way things were, was really great. He knew changing that could do damage. He knew it wasn't what she wanted.
But there was a desperation in him. A desperation to not lose someone else so important to him. Thoughts that he couldn't shut off ever since he had woken up in the hospital, and started to remember the accident. He remembered the fear in Frankie's eyes. The fear in his own heart as the car skidded across the road, and his wonder if that was it. An instant of thought that Frankie could die. Not a moment of concern for himself, but only for his son.
He started to realize that anything could happen, and anything could end. Things he normally didn't think about or harp on raced through his daily thoughts. And it hurt. He didn't trust himself alone with Frankie. He called his mom and sisters every day. And Anna...he only wanted her there. Close. Because the fucked up logic was, if he could keep her close he wouldn't lose her.
Of course he knew it was crazy. He very well knew that her living there couldn't keep her from leaving. Heather was proof of that. But the question popped out on it's own. Not even a question, it was a beg. A needy beg of her to stay. Not in the literal sense, of course. He knew she had to travel, but...he needed her to stay his.
So came the words.
And the talking.
The almost argument.
And now she was in his arms, and her body was moving with his. Her hand was grasped with his, and their fingers threaded together. And this was all he needed. Her. Them. A hope that they could keep on being them, and he could continue holding her whenever she came to him. He had promised to be her place, and even if she didn't know it, she was his. And deep down, he knew that didn't mean that they had to live in the same place, because it didn't matter where they were. They were home even if she wasn't there.
Her name sounded on his lips and she gripped him tighter. He kissed her hard and didn't let her go just yet. He wanted to wait for her, because he wanted her to feel everything he felt. Moments later their bodies froze in pause together before he gently dropped down against her. After catching his breath he moved off of her, but kept close, looping his arm around her waist. She turned to him and let her fingers brush against his neck.
He watched her sleepy eyes drift shut and brushed his lips to hers. A happy sigh came from her throat, which only turned his lips up contently. "I love you, gorgeous," he murmured.
"Mmm," she settled close. "Love you, too."
This was his place.
720