It's soft pressure against her shoulder, then her arm, her side that pulls her. From the nest of a darkness and light and warmth, heavier than the heaviest bricks, thrown overboard. Shifting, moving, pulling her back, and back, until her mouth twitches and her eyelashes flicker as it continues. A ripple of warmth that consolidates into touch. A hand -- Nathan's hand, Nathan's fingers -- running down her skin, causing her to turn toward him.
Where he's already slightly pushed up, awake. Awake, and watching her with those eyes, all caught in the morning light through her window, and all she can think for a warm, fuzzy second is it wasn't a dream. The warm, and heavy, weight of that. The way she still has to lift her hand, to find some part of him. To know it more. This is real. And she can. Just touch him.
Without strings and barbs.
Shecan, finally.
Even if, from this angle, it's only the back of her knuckles finding his shoulder, and his neck, unable to look away from those eyes, his face, Nathan's handsome face, tucked down, so close he's all the air and light and shape of the waking world before her, Nathan, not able to look away from that, not even to help her own hand.
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carisma_sensei
no subject
Date: 2018-08-07 12:12 pm (UTC)It's soft pressure against her shoulder, then her arm, her side that pulls her. From the nest of a darkness and light and warmth, heavier than the heaviest bricks, thrown overboard. Shifting, moving, pulling her back, and back, until her mouth twitches and her eyelashes flicker as it continues. A ripple of warmth that consolidates into touch. A hand -- Nathan's hand, Nathan's fingers -- running down her skin, causing her to turn toward him.
Where he's already slightly pushed up, awake. Awake, and watching her with those eyes, all caught in the morning light through her window, and all she can think for a warm, fuzzy second is it wasn't a dream. The warm, and heavy, weight of that. The way she still has to lift her hand, to find some part of him. To know it more. This is real. And she can. Just touch him.
Without strings and barbs.
She can, finally.
Even if, from this angle, it's only the back of her knuckles finding his shoulder, and his neck, unable to look away from those eyes, his face, Nathan's handsome face, tucked down, so close he's all the air and light and shape of the waking world before her, Nathan, not able to look away from that, not even to help her own hand.