Audrey doesn't stop him, doesn't, couldn't even begin to stop the rush of her heart, when he leans down to kiss her again before she can more than just starting to nod. Except he kisses her, and asks her another question, a third, only to kiss her again. Every kiss nearly making her laugh. But, only nearly, every breath that might have become one swallowed in the next second wave that causes her to melts into each small kiss, and she could.
She could drown in this. This sheer absolution of the impossible turned possible. Of Nathan's arm curling possessively around her middle, and Nathan continuing to ask questions she can't answer, kissing her breathless instead, and how did she never see that coming. This. Nathan Wuornos, something remarkably almost like playful. How does she never let it go.
When her fingertips slide over his ear and through his short brown hair lost against his lips, and pancakes could wait, too. Pancakes could happen in a few minutes, or a few hours, if they just never left the bed, never left the apartment, if they just never moved, and he never let go again. It's like breathing the sunlight, in the seconds she can open her eyes between kisses, to catch that catch me smile and the light in his eyes, brighter than anything outside.
A -- "Yes" -- squashed short between one kiss and another, with a laugh that escapes -- "but" -- as she leans more back into the pillow, eyes bright, even if she can't tell if she feels even more awake or even more like this a dream caught on sunbeams, in the haze right before true awareness and having to go back to the real world. "--not in my bed."
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carisma_sensei
no subject
Date: 2018-08-08 12:37 am (UTC)Audrey doesn't stop him, doesn't, couldn't even begin to stop the rush of her heart, when he leans down to kiss her again before she can more than just starting to nod. Except he kisses her, and asks her another question, a third, only to kiss her again. Every kiss nearly making her laugh. But, only nearly, every breath that might have become one swallowed in the next second wave that causes her to melts into each small kiss, and she could.
She could drown in this. This sheer absolution of the impossible turned possible. Of Nathan's arm curling possessively around her middle, and Nathan continuing to ask questions she can't answer, kissing her breathless instead, and how did she never see that coming. This. Nathan Wuornos, something remarkably almost like playful. How does she never let it go.
When her fingertips slide over his ear and through his short brown hair lost against his lips, and pancakes could wait, too. Pancakes could happen in a few minutes, or a few hours, if they just never left the bed, never left the apartment, if they just never moved, and he never let go again. It's like breathing the sunlight, in the seconds she can open her eyes between kisses, to catch that catch me smile and the light in his eyes, brighter than anything outside.
A -- "Yes" -- squashed short between one kiss and another, with a laugh that escapes -- "but" -- as she leans more back into the pillow, eyes bright, even if she can't tell if she feels even more awake or even more like this a dream caught on sunbeams, in the haze right before true awareness and having to go back to the real world. "--not in my bed."