Four

Mar 26, 2012 23:43


Title: Four

Ship: Guzman/Mira

Genre: Drama/Angst

Rated: R

Word Count: 490

Summary: Memories have plagued her the past four weeks.

A/N: While my other fics have some semblance of continuity, this story stands alone.

Written for Guz/Mira - four by morganel for ‘Friday One Word Challenge’ - Week 11



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Four.

It’s been four weeks.

Four weeks since they fell into bed in a tumble, leaving clothing and overturned furniture in their wake, adrenaline and lust raging through their veins. The need to feel alive, to confirm that they both remained in this world (they had barely escaped from a pack of ferocious nykos), propelling them forward. Eager touches, hungry lips in search of the other, throaty moans and heaving sighs permeating the air as they embraced in a tangle of limbs.

That night played in her head continuously, day and night, driving her to distraction. A film reel with no end in sight. That she still felt his lips on her heated skin, his fingers trailing down her body until they reached their desired destination, his warm breath on her neck, was a sort of torture she knew she’d never stand a chance against. It had been so long, too long.

It left her wanting more. More of his touch, his kisses, the feel of his strong body moving against hers, more of him. There had been numerous times when she was forced to stop herself, fight the urge to go to him because she knew she had no right. Not after leaving his quarters during the pre-dawn hours, departing as if from a simple one-night stand, him waking alone to an empty room.

It had been a mistake. A grievous one on her part which had perhaps ruined any chance of a reconciliation between them. She was sure of it. The look of disappointment and raw hurt he had given her when she approached him later that day had yet to fade from memory and it caused her usual stoic persona to falter, left her on unsteady ground.

Always professional, courteous (but distant), the past four weeks he’s only directed his attention to her for work related matters and she detests how it stings. Yet she only has herself to blame. What more does she expect from him after all? This was all on her. Her doing. He’s had enough.

“Mira, if you need another minute I can come back later?” Dr. Shannon stands in front of her, a sympathetic expression on her face, clearly having been privy to such a reaction from a patient on more than one occasion.

“No, I...I’m fine,” are the last words she speaks before she makes her way to her compound, filing away the advice and recommendations given to her, a numbness washing over her body as her legs become leaden, become heavy enough that they cause her to slow down her pace.

Four.

It’s been four weeks.

Four weeks since they fell into bed in a tumble, experiencing a euphoria that only he could generate wash over her senses. Feeling desired, wanted, loved. Whispers and caresses uniting them together once more in a dance as old as time. One that resulted in the creation of a new life.

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