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.
She held into him, hand and eyes both, sitting up slowly. He hadn't fled. He had made the first move, she would make the second. She smiled and leaned in to kiss him again.
Hesitantly, he closed the distance, his hands twitching, unsure where to put them. He could hear his heart pounding, and his breathing was quick even though he closed his eyes and kissed her and tried to relax, like other people did, immersing in sensation rather than riding on a torrent of exhileration.
She was careful, not wanting to overwhelm him. Her own eyes closed and her mouth was soft and gentle. She could feel his heart racing, and her own sped to match, but not fear, not nervousness, knowing.
A small part of her brain laughed. He did taste like chocolate. Her favourite.
How long would this last? How long could it last? Forever?
What should he do? He reached forward, hands still twitching, fingers curling and uncurling hesitantly, until his arms slipped around her, maybe a little awkwardly, and still the kiss held, still his eyes stayed closed.
Inside his arms she felt suddenly as if she were flying and knew why he like it so much. One of her hands slipped into his hair, tentatively, cupping the shape of his skull before she broke the kiss, opening her eyes again to watch him. What now?
He watched her, his eyes still half-open, catching his breath. He didn't move, though he dropped his gaze after a moment and smiled a sheepish smile, his cheeks pink. "I ... well... Aheh...." He looked up at her again, still pink.
He wasn't fleeing yet. So far, so good. She smiled, reassuring and happy, her eyes bright, still so close to his. "I was wondering how long that would take."
A soft, amused sound. "You... you were? Wondering? Aheh..." Again, he dropped his gaze. His heart still raced, and part of him trembled, though with fear or anticipation, it was difficult to say. Another part simply wanted to pull her close. Know what it felt like to melt into someone's embrace. To be surrounded by her scent and her warmth. As it were, his forehead touched hers lightly.
For answer she kissed him again, a light, quick thing. "No," she murmured, looking into his eyes. She shifted a little closer. She wanted to stay here forever almost as much as she wanted to press forward, and that bolstered her self-control. She would have to lead him, she knew, but she would let him choose every step.
His gaze was far away again, and he nodded. "Oh, good, good..." A pause. "I... have to admit to not.. having much experience. You know how it..." He trailed off when he looked up at her again, taking a breath. "...is," he finished, his eyes caught by hers again. A hesitant smile crossed his features for a moment. They were so close, so very close, a kind of electricity between them, heat and a strange magnetic pull. He didn't want to leave it. Couldn't pull away--didn't want to.
Vianne put her arms around his waist, leaning her forehead against his. "I think... I think this is right. Do you?"
Right wasn't the right word, though. Perfect was better. Ordained. Fate? Or was she being silly, caught up in an endorphine rush and in love with being in...
Of course it was right. How could it be wrong when she was the first person to get this near to him in as long as he could remember? The first person he didn't pull away from?
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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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He could lose himself in this warmth....
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A small part of her brain laughed. He did taste like chocolate. Her favourite.
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What should he do? He reached forward, hands still twitching, fingers curling and uncurling hesitantly, until his arms slipped around her, maybe a little awkwardly, and still the kiss held, still his eyes stayed closed.
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"I hope I ... didn't disappoint."
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Right wasn't the right word, though. Perfect was better. Ordained. Fate? Or was she being silly, caught up in an endorphine rush and in love with being in...
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Of course it was right. How could it be wrong when she was the first person to get this near to him in as long as he could remember? The first person he didn't pull away from?
"...yes...."
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