New Year
Title: New Year
Author: Terion
Disclaimer: Not. Mine.
Rating: Caution for fluffiness and some clothes-ripping.
Book or TV verse: Book verse, post White Night (if you haven't read WN, don't read! SPOILER); not a part of my series.
Summary: Dinner and some conversation and a conveniently placed spring of mistletoe...
“Hello?”
I blinked and rubbed the back of my neck nervously as I worked to unstick my tongue where it had lodged itself at the back of my throat.
“Urm…hi, Murph.”
“Harry?”
“Yeah, its me.” Still rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly, I leaned back on the couch and continued, “Well…I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend?”
There was silence from the other end of the line then Murphy said softly, “This…weekend?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Harry…this weekend is Christmas.”
I smiled and said, “Is it really? Imagine that.”
There was another pause in which I started, “Look, Murph, its just a dinner on Christmas Eve. Its Molly’s bright idea and she wanted me to ask you if you’d come too.”
“Just the three of us?”
“Don’t count out Thomas, the cat, dogasaurus, and Bob if he insists on it.”
There was a pause then she asked, “What time?”
I blinked, shocked that she had actually accepted. Then I bolted upright and scrabbled for the scrap of paper Molly had written the time on earlier.
“Six,” I replied as I found it, half crumpling it as I snatched it up. “That okay?”
“Its fine. I’ll see you then, Harry.”
“Goodb…”
She hung up before I could finish and I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at it for a moment. Then I sighed and hung it up, muttering, “Goodbye, Murph.”
The days between when I’d called and the weekend passed quickly enough. I had two simple cases - an exorcism for an elderly woman and finding a lost little girl (who ended up being two houses down chatting with a ghost like it was nothing) - that I solved early on in the week and nothing to do with S.I. So I spent the rest of the week going between shopping with Molly and sitting at home practicing more with my guitar.
Thomas showed up at noon and dragged me off the couch to help him cook. Mouse made a thorough hassle of himself throughout the process but his antics made us laugh so he was allowed to continue. Mister made a pass through the kitchen at one point to get his deserved token bit of turkey then went back to his spot on the bookshelf.
We managed to just finish getting the last of the food done when Molly came in brushing snow out of her hair with her cheeks flushed bright red. She peeled off her coat and pouted as she entered the kitchen to see all the work done.
“Aw…I wanted to do something.”
My brother laughed and said, “You can do the dishes after then.”
“That’s not what I meant,” grumbled Molly. Then she looked at me and asked, “Is Murphy coming?”
I nodded and replied, “She told me she was coming.”
My apprentice nodded at that and frowned at the rickety old folding table I’d hauled out of the lab for us to use. I caught her look and frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. She saw me out of the corner of her eyes and bit her lip before asking, “Um…are we really eating on that?”
“No, its just for show,” I quipped in response. “And don’t mock my table. I can sit on it, therefore, it will hold the food.”
Thomas laughed at that and said, “Guess that settles that. Oh and plates?”
“Paper?” I queried, pointing at the stack on the counter. “We’ve used all the other ones.”
“Honestly, little brother. Paper is nothing to serve guests on!”
I blinked at him and said, “Thomas, remember who you’re talking to.”
He looked thoughtful then nodded, chuckling.
“True enough. Paper plates it is then!”
Molly shook her head then rushed at the door as there was the sound of a car pulling up from outside. She pulled it open and squeezed through, screaming out “MURPHY!” as she ran out without a coat into the snow.
Thomas burst out laughing in response, shaking his head in amusement. I just sighed and muttered, “Sometimes I wonder if that girl is really her age.”
A newly snow-dusted Molly reentered with Murphy behind her, grinning from ear to ear. The blonde cop smiled as she stripped off her scarf and leather coat, hanging them next to Molly’s and my duster by the door, and blinked at the food.
“Wow.”
I grinned and said, “Greetings, fair madam! We have a fine selection of foods tonight here at Château Dresden. Come and let our fine staff show you to your seat.” Performing an intricate bow that I was lucky to make it through without falling over, I nudged Thomas with my elbow and hissed, “Be staff like.”
He blinked then smiled and strode forward, bowing elegantly to Murphy and extending a hand.
“Madam! Allow me to show you to your seat.”
Murphy covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh but I could see the amusement in her blue eyes. Then she placed her hand in Thomas’ and said, “Thank you, kind sir.”
He grinned and escorted her to one of the chairs at the table; I did the gentlemanly thing and did the same for Molly, making her giggle and grin at Murphy.
The dinner went surprisingly well: the table didn’t collapse, all of the food was good, and conversation never lagged. We all managed to keep off the subject of our respective work and laughed each time Mister took a piece of turkey one of us had tossed at Mouse. By the end of the night, we were all full of good food and good company, making it a wonderful evening all-over.
When Molly started to fall asleep after we moved over by the fireplace, Thomas volunteered to take her home. As he woke her up enough to get her into her coat and ushered her out the door, he winked at me. Confused, I just watched him grin then the door closed him off from sight.
Just Murph and me left now.
She blinked then chuckled, saying, “This was a good night, Harry. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Molly asked me to,” I said, shrugging. Then I smiled at her and added, “I’m glad you came though. Wouldn’t have been the same without you here, Murph.”
“I’m sure you would have had as much fun without me.”
“Nah.” I rose, shaking my head, and headed towards the kitchen. “It wouldn’t have been. You want a beer?”
Murphy smiled and asked, “Do you actually mean beer?”
“Alright, ale,” I corrected as I pulled two bottles out of the icebox. As I handed her one and sank back onto the couch, I asked, “So how are things?”
“Hmm?”
“At S.I. How are things going?”
“Better,” she replied. Looking down at the bottle in her hands, she continued, “Still not great but its getting better.” I found my gaze drawn to her bottle as she twisted it in her hands and stared at them. Tiny little lean hands with their scrapes and rough calluses that were as strong as the rest of her.
I jerked my eyes away when I realized I was staring, scolding myself for doing so.
Murphy looked up at me, not having noticed, and asked, “What about you?”
“Nothing apocalyptic,” I replied with a shrug. “Just the usual cases in the past few days.”
“I don’t think we’ve had anything really apocalyptic to deal with, Harry. You’ve been watching Buffy reruns with Thomas again, haven’t you?”
“Faeries,” I pointed out. “That would have been apocalyptic.” Then I laughed and smiled sheepishly at her, added, “And, yeah, I have. While sitting very far away from his TV so as not to make it go ka-blooey.”
She chuckled at that, shaking her head so her punk-cut blonde hair fell over her eyes. When she looked at me with amusement in her eyes, my stomach tensed and quivered in reaction.
Stars and stones, I wanted her so badly.
We sat there talking for another hour until she finally said she needed to leave since it was nearly midnight. I just nodded and hovered around her as she put on her coat and tugged her scarf around her neck. As I opened the door for her, she turned to glare at me but there was no real menace in it.
I smiled in response and said, “Be careful, Murph.”
“I will,” she replied, looking up at me without meeting my eyes. Then she frowned and said, “Harry…did you put that there?”
Blinking, I tilted my head and looked above the door. There, tapped down on the frame outside, was a spring of mistletoe.
Molly or Thomas. More likely the pair of them than just one alone.
“Nope,” I replied. Then I looked down at her and smiled, tilting my head to the side. “Y’know…its tradition to kiss under it, Murph.”
She stared at me then sighed, saying, “Harry, you know…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence - I didn’t want to hear the reasons why again. Instead I leaned forward and grasped her shoulders, pulling her slight frame against mine and pressing my lips against hers. She tasted like the turkey we’d eaten and Mac’s ale and her lips were soft against mine.
All I wanted, damnit, was her for one moment.
Her lips twitched and she kissed me back for a brief second. Then her hands were on my chest and she pushed herself away from me, cheeks flushed - and not by the cold.
“We can’t,” she breathed.
“Why the hell not?” I hissed even though I knew the answer she’d give already.
“We’re too different.”
“Being the same would be boring.”
“Work…”
“Wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Our worlds…”
“Collide more and more with every moment the world turns.”
Murphy pursed her lips and frowned at me. Her expression was sober as she said, “You’ll live for centuries longer than me.”
The truth of that hit me like a train. But I leaned forward, my face close to hers, and breathed, “I don’t care. If I live to be three hundred…one moment with you will make those years without you all that much better.”
She blinked at me in surprise and I took the opportunity to kiss her again. This time she slapped me.
Then she grabbed my face and hissed, “Damn you, you stubborn bastard. Damn you!”
I blinked at her. “Murph…”
Her lips pressed against mine then, cutting off anything further I had to say. I grunted and grabbed her in response, tugging her lithe body against mine. Staggering backwards, I dragged her back through the door with me and kicked it shut, losing my balance in the process.
We fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs and she straddled my waist, tugging off her coat and tossing it aside. It landed on Mouse, who snorted and sprang to his feet looking for the enemy. When he saw us, he snorted and disappeared into the kitchen.
Murphy dove back down at me, kissing me as her fingers fumbled at my belt. She tossed it aside once she’d gotten it off then went after my t-shirt - I took drastic measures when she tried to rip it off of me.
“No, no,” I grumbled as I tugged it over my head and tossed it aside. Then I grabbed her and pulled her close, unbuttoning her shirt with my other hand as I kissed her. I hissed, “You do not rip a Pink Floyd shirt, woman. That’s sacrilege.”
“Noted,” she growled. Then I had her shirt open and tugged it off, getting a fine view of her tanned lithe body.
“Hells bells…”
Murphy smirked and leaned forward, her mouth finding my ear. Her teeth and lips lightly nipped my earlobe and that simple motion made me ache painfully for her. I trailed a line of kisses down her neck and shoulder in response and took pleasure in the fact that her skin quivered wherever I touched.
Then I realized how freaking cold the floor was.
“Time to move,” I muttered and slapped her ass, a guaranteed move to get her to move where I could get up. She jerked back with a vicious look on her face then blinked as I slid out from underneath her legs. I grinned and grabbed her while she was shocked, throwing her over my shoulder.
“Harry!”
“Man want woman in bed,” I grunted, caveman like, as I headed for the bedroom. “Woman crazy to want cold floor.”
She kneed me in the chest for that.
I promptly threw her on the bed in response.
She stared at me from where she sat on the bed, rumpled, shirtless, and beautiful. Then she gave me a ‘come hither’ look and started to unbutton her jeans in a mocking way that made me lose all sanity.
I seem to recall kicking the door shut. After that…well, do you really expect me to have conscious thought?
When I woke up later, I sat up quickly and cursed. Shaking, I buried my head in my hands, not wanting to look to the other side of the bed.
That couldn’t have been real.
Murphy would never…
Then I remembered.
Lasciel was gone. There was nothing that could delude me with illusions in my head anymore except my own brain.
And my own imaginings could never feel so real.
Breath caught in my throat, I lowered my hands and turned my head to look. When I saw her lying there, blonde hair all in disarray across my pillows…I could have died happy in that moment.
Sliding back into the warmth under the covers, I moved close to her so her warm back was touching my chest. I touched her shoulder with my left hand but grimaced and pulled it away when I saw the sight of my mangled hand against her smooth skin.
Her hand closed around mine.
She shifted so she could look at me, her blue eyes gentle and unguarded. I stared at her, careful not to meet her eyes, and watched as she drew my mangled hand towards her. Her touch was feather light across the burnt skin and I wished desperately that I could feel her touch in it.
She smiled at me then kissed my hand, breathing, “This is nothing, Harry.”
I stared at her then smiled, pulling her towards me with that hand. She turned over so she could face me and snuggled against my chest, warm and really there.
“What happens now?” I asked softly as we lay there.
She smiled and touched my face gently, her fingers fluttering over my lips.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her blue eyes meeting mine for longer than they should have. Then I remembered a brief moment in time, me on top of her with our gazes locking, a soulgaze more potent than any other initiated in that instant. She had just stared when it was over then smiled, gently and forgiving, before she thrust her hips against mine and the moment of clarity passed. “But it’s a new year, Harry. We have all the time in the world to figure it out.”
I smiled and lifted my maimed hand, pressing it over hers.
“Stay?”
Murphy nodded and kissed my fingers.
“Yes.”
I wrapped my arms around her gratefully at that, hugging her close and reveling in her warmth. Leaning my head against hers, I swore I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Nothing but death itself was going to take this woman away from me.
I would make sure of that.
Author: Terion
Disclaimer: Not. Mine.
Rating: Caution for fluffiness and some clothes-ripping.
Book or TV verse: Book verse, post White Night (if you haven't read WN, don't read! SPOILER); not a part of my series.
Summary: Dinner and some conversation and a conveniently placed spring of mistletoe...
“Hello?”
I blinked and rubbed the back of my neck nervously as I worked to unstick my tongue where it had lodged itself at the back of my throat.
“Urm…hi, Murph.”
“Harry?”
“Yeah, its me.” Still rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly, I leaned back on the couch and continued, “Well…I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend?”
There was silence from the other end of the line then Murphy said softly, “This…weekend?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Harry…this weekend is Christmas.”
I smiled and said, “Is it really? Imagine that.”
There was another pause in which I started, “Look, Murph, its just a dinner on Christmas Eve. Its Molly’s bright idea and she wanted me to ask you if you’d come too.”
“Just the three of us?”
“Don’t count out Thomas, the cat, dogasaurus, and Bob if he insists on it.”
There was a pause then she asked, “What time?”
I blinked, shocked that she had actually accepted. Then I bolted upright and scrabbled for the scrap of paper Molly had written the time on earlier.
“Six,” I replied as I found it, half crumpling it as I snatched it up. “That okay?”
“Its fine. I’ll see you then, Harry.”
“Goodb…”
She hung up before I could finish and I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at it for a moment. Then I sighed and hung it up, muttering, “Goodbye, Murph.”
The days between when I’d called and the weekend passed quickly enough. I had two simple cases - an exorcism for an elderly woman and finding a lost little girl (who ended up being two houses down chatting with a ghost like it was nothing) - that I solved early on in the week and nothing to do with S.I. So I spent the rest of the week going between shopping with Molly and sitting at home practicing more with my guitar.
Thomas showed up at noon and dragged me off the couch to help him cook. Mouse made a thorough hassle of himself throughout the process but his antics made us laugh so he was allowed to continue. Mister made a pass through the kitchen at one point to get his deserved token bit of turkey then went back to his spot on the bookshelf.
We managed to just finish getting the last of the food done when Molly came in brushing snow out of her hair with her cheeks flushed bright red. She peeled off her coat and pouted as she entered the kitchen to see all the work done.
“Aw…I wanted to do something.”
My brother laughed and said, “You can do the dishes after then.”
“That’s not what I meant,” grumbled Molly. Then she looked at me and asked, “Is Murphy coming?”
I nodded and replied, “She told me she was coming.”
My apprentice nodded at that and frowned at the rickety old folding table I’d hauled out of the lab for us to use. I caught her look and frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. She saw me out of the corner of her eyes and bit her lip before asking, “Um…are we really eating on that?”
“No, its just for show,” I quipped in response. “And don’t mock my table. I can sit on it, therefore, it will hold the food.”
Thomas laughed at that and said, “Guess that settles that. Oh and plates?”
“Paper?” I queried, pointing at the stack on the counter. “We’ve used all the other ones.”
“Honestly, little brother. Paper is nothing to serve guests on!”
I blinked at him and said, “Thomas, remember who you’re talking to.”
He looked thoughtful then nodded, chuckling.
“True enough. Paper plates it is then!”
Molly shook her head then rushed at the door as there was the sound of a car pulling up from outside. She pulled it open and squeezed through, screaming out “MURPHY!” as she ran out without a coat into the snow.
Thomas burst out laughing in response, shaking his head in amusement. I just sighed and muttered, “Sometimes I wonder if that girl is really her age.”
A newly snow-dusted Molly reentered with Murphy behind her, grinning from ear to ear. The blonde cop smiled as she stripped off her scarf and leather coat, hanging them next to Molly’s and my duster by the door, and blinked at the food.
“Wow.”
I grinned and said, “Greetings, fair madam! We have a fine selection of foods tonight here at Château Dresden. Come and let our fine staff show you to your seat.” Performing an intricate bow that I was lucky to make it through without falling over, I nudged Thomas with my elbow and hissed, “Be staff like.”
He blinked then smiled and strode forward, bowing elegantly to Murphy and extending a hand.
“Madam! Allow me to show you to your seat.”
Murphy covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh but I could see the amusement in her blue eyes. Then she placed her hand in Thomas’ and said, “Thank you, kind sir.”
He grinned and escorted her to one of the chairs at the table; I did the gentlemanly thing and did the same for Molly, making her giggle and grin at Murphy.
The dinner went surprisingly well: the table didn’t collapse, all of the food was good, and conversation never lagged. We all managed to keep off the subject of our respective work and laughed each time Mister took a piece of turkey one of us had tossed at Mouse. By the end of the night, we were all full of good food and good company, making it a wonderful evening all-over.
When Molly started to fall asleep after we moved over by the fireplace, Thomas volunteered to take her home. As he woke her up enough to get her into her coat and ushered her out the door, he winked at me. Confused, I just watched him grin then the door closed him off from sight.
Just Murph and me left now.
She blinked then chuckled, saying, “This was a good night, Harry. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Molly asked me to,” I said, shrugging. Then I smiled at her and added, “I’m glad you came though. Wouldn’t have been the same without you here, Murph.”
“I’m sure you would have had as much fun without me.”
“Nah.” I rose, shaking my head, and headed towards the kitchen. “It wouldn’t have been. You want a beer?”
Murphy smiled and asked, “Do you actually mean beer?”
“Alright, ale,” I corrected as I pulled two bottles out of the icebox. As I handed her one and sank back onto the couch, I asked, “So how are things?”
“Hmm?”
“At S.I. How are things going?”
“Better,” she replied. Looking down at the bottle in her hands, she continued, “Still not great but its getting better.” I found my gaze drawn to her bottle as she twisted it in her hands and stared at them. Tiny little lean hands with their scrapes and rough calluses that were as strong as the rest of her.
I jerked my eyes away when I realized I was staring, scolding myself for doing so.
Murphy looked up at me, not having noticed, and asked, “What about you?”
“Nothing apocalyptic,” I replied with a shrug. “Just the usual cases in the past few days.”
“I don’t think we’ve had anything really apocalyptic to deal with, Harry. You’ve been watching Buffy reruns with Thomas again, haven’t you?”
“Faeries,” I pointed out. “That would have been apocalyptic.” Then I laughed and smiled sheepishly at her, added, “And, yeah, I have. While sitting very far away from his TV so as not to make it go ka-blooey.”
She chuckled at that, shaking her head so her punk-cut blonde hair fell over her eyes. When she looked at me with amusement in her eyes, my stomach tensed and quivered in reaction.
Stars and stones, I wanted her so badly.
We sat there talking for another hour until she finally said she needed to leave since it was nearly midnight. I just nodded and hovered around her as she put on her coat and tugged her scarf around her neck. As I opened the door for her, she turned to glare at me but there was no real menace in it.
I smiled in response and said, “Be careful, Murph.”
“I will,” she replied, looking up at me without meeting my eyes. Then she frowned and said, “Harry…did you put that there?”
Blinking, I tilted my head and looked above the door. There, tapped down on the frame outside, was a spring of mistletoe.
Molly or Thomas. More likely the pair of them than just one alone.
“Nope,” I replied. Then I looked down at her and smiled, tilting my head to the side. “Y’know…its tradition to kiss under it, Murph.”
She stared at me then sighed, saying, “Harry, you know…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence - I didn’t want to hear the reasons why again. Instead I leaned forward and grasped her shoulders, pulling her slight frame against mine and pressing my lips against hers. She tasted like the turkey we’d eaten and Mac’s ale and her lips were soft against mine.
All I wanted, damnit, was her for one moment.
Her lips twitched and she kissed me back for a brief second. Then her hands were on my chest and she pushed herself away from me, cheeks flushed - and not by the cold.
“We can’t,” she breathed.
“Why the hell not?” I hissed even though I knew the answer she’d give already.
“We’re too different.”
“Being the same would be boring.”
“Work…”
“Wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Our worlds…”
“Collide more and more with every moment the world turns.”
Murphy pursed her lips and frowned at me. Her expression was sober as she said, “You’ll live for centuries longer than me.”
The truth of that hit me like a train. But I leaned forward, my face close to hers, and breathed, “I don’t care. If I live to be three hundred…one moment with you will make those years without you all that much better.”
She blinked at me in surprise and I took the opportunity to kiss her again. This time she slapped me.
Then she grabbed my face and hissed, “Damn you, you stubborn bastard. Damn you!”
I blinked at her. “Murph…”
Her lips pressed against mine then, cutting off anything further I had to say. I grunted and grabbed her in response, tugging her lithe body against mine. Staggering backwards, I dragged her back through the door with me and kicked it shut, losing my balance in the process.
We fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs and she straddled my waist, tugging off her coat and tossing it aside. It landed on Mouse, who snorted and sprang to his feet looking for the enemy. When he saw us, he snorted and disappeared into the kitchen.
Murphy dove back down at me, kissing me as her fingers fumbled at my belt. She tossed it aside once she’d gotten it off then went after my t-shirt - I took drastic measures when she tried to rip it off of me.
“No, no,” I grumbled as I tugged it over my head and tossed it aside. Then I grabbed her and pulled her close, unbuttoning her shirt with my other hand as I kissed her. I hissed, “You do not rip a Pink Floyd shirt, woman. That’s sacrilege.”
“Noted,” she growled. Then I had her shirt open and tugged it off, getting a fine view of her tanned lithe body.
“Hells bells…”
Murphy smirked and leaned forward, her mouth finding my ear. Her teeth and lips lightly nipped my earlobe and that simple motion made me ache painfully for her. I trailed a line of kisses down her neck and shoulder in response and took pleasure in the fact that her skin quivered wherever I touched.
Then I realized how freaking cold the floor was.
“Time to move,” I muttered and slapped her ass, a guaranteed move to get her to move where I could get up. She jerked back with a vicious look on her face then blinked as I slid out from underneath her legs. I grinned and grabbed her while she was shocked, throwing her over my shoulder.
“Harry!”
“Man want woman in bed,” I grunted, caveman like, as I headed for the bedroom. “Woman crazy to want cold floor.”
She kneed me in the chest for that.
I promptly threw her on the bed in response.
She stared at me from where she sat on the bed, rumpled, shirtless, and beautiful. Then she gave me a ‘come hither’ look and started to unbutton her jeans in a mocking way that made me lose all sanity.
I seem to recall kicking the door shut. After that…well, do you really expect me to have conscious thought?
When I woke up later, I sat up quickly and cursed. Shaking, I buried my head in my hands, not wanting to look to the other side of the bed.
That couldn’t have been real.
Murphy would never…
Then I remembered.
Lasciel was gone. There was nothing that could delude me with illusions in my head anymore except my own brain.
And my own imaginings could never feel so real.
Breath caught in my throat, I lowered my hands and turned my head to look. When I saw her lying there, blonde hair all in disarray across my pillows…I could have died happy in that moment.
Sliding back into the warmth under the covers, I moved close to her so her warm back was touching my chest. I touched her shoulder with my left hand but grimaced and pulled it away when I saw the sight of my mangled hand against her smooth skin.
Her hand closed around mine.
She shifted so she could look at me, her blue eyes gentle and unguarded. I stared at her, careful not to meet her eyes, and watched as she drew my mangled hand towards her. Her touch was feather light across the burnt skin and I wished desperately that I could feel her touch in it.
She smiled at me then kissed my hand, breathing, “This is nothing, Harry.”
I stared at her then smiled, pulling her towards me with that hand. She turned over so she could face me and snuggled against my chest, warm and really there.
“What happens now?” I asked softly as we lay there.
She smiled and touched my face gently, her fingers fluttering over my lips.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her blue eyes meeting mine for longer than they should have. Then I remembered a brief moment in time, me on top of her with our gazes locking, a soulgaze more potent than any other initiated in that instant. She had just stared when it was over then smiled, gently and forgiving, before she thrust her hips against mine and the moment of clarity passed. “But it’s a new year, Harry. We have all the time in the world to figure it out.”
I smiled and lifted my maimed hand, pressing it over hers.
“Stay?”
Murphy nodded and kissed my fingers.
“Yes.”
I wrapped my arms around her gratefully at that, hugging her close and reveling in her warmth. Leaning my head against hers, I swore I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Nothing but death itself was going to take this woman away from me.
I would make sure of that.