She was asleep, stretched out across the foot of her bed, a book fallen shut by her hand and her hair fallen across her face. She'd had second thoughts about the nap once she got out of the heat, but her body had had other ideas.
He watched her from the doorway for a moment. Unidentifiable feelings and thoughts raced about in his mind as he stood there, looking at her, still for the first time in what seemed like ages.
Eventually, however, he came forward and sat next to her, quietly looking down at her. A hesitant hand reached out, stopped, tried again, stopped. He curled his fingers, blinking down at her. He felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the day's heat, that spread from his chest and made his fingers tingle strangely. He reached out again, carefully brushing her hair from her face, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers.
It suddenly hit him that warmth was something he needed. Not just physical warmth, but ... it wouldn't be so bad, would it? He leaned forward toward her, almost as though in a dream, only part of his mind aware of what he was doing while the other part rolled over the idea of this revelation. Even when his lips touched hers gently, his eyes closing, he still wondered if maybe this was the thing he'd been
( ... )
Her eyes opened slowly, then wider, startled, but she didn't pull away. Even just woken up, she felt that same warm magnetism she had just a few hours before. This, oh, this was the last thing she'd expected. And it felt wonderful.
Her hand covered his where it was still touching her face, and she kissed him back. The thought crossed her mind to wonder if she was his first, but it didn't matter. Nothing did, except him and now and this. Oh, this.
He felt her move, noticed she'd woken up, and his eyes flickered. He pulled back slightly, catching his breath, looking at her with half-open eyes. Her hand still covered his and he didn't move it, held in her eyes, instead.
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Eventually, however, he came forward and sat next to her, quietly looking down at her. A hesitant hand reached out, stopped, tried again, stopped. He curled his fingers, blinking down at her. He felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the day's heat, that spread from his chest and made his fingers tingle strangely. He reached out again, carefully brushing her hair from her face, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers.
It suddenly hit him that warmth was something he needed. Not just physical warmth, but ... it wouldn't be so bad, would it? He leaned forward toward her, almost as though in a dream, only part of his mind aware of what he was doing while the other part rolled over the idea of this revelation. Even when his lips touched hers gently, his eyes closing, he still wondered if maybe this was the thing he'd been ( ... )
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Her hand covered his where it was still touching her face, and she kissed him back. The thought crossed her mind to wonder if she was his first, but it didn't matter. Nothing did, except him and now and this. Oh, this.
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