She listens to his breath. Even. Controlled. They are both lying on their left sides, her right arm has a firm but tender grip around his body, the hand resting on his chest and under his arm. Her body follows the curve of his exactly as she snuggles close, their feet intertwined, her forehead resting against the back of his head. His hair is tickling her just a bit but in a good way and her lips rest against his neck.
Thus they remain and she doesn’t remember anymore how they got into this position anyway or how long ago that was, and she doesn’t care. All that matters to her right now his the feel of his back resting against her body.
Her eyes aren’t closed. She can’t. Because she is aware that doing so would shift her focus away from the man in her arms and to the emotions inside herself. But these very emotions are already too hard to bear without her concentrating on them.
So she listens to his breathing and wonders briefly whether he’s asleep.
Soon he has to leave. Her heart gives a jump as the toes of his right foot briefly stroke over hers.
The rythm of his heart underneath her hand never changed. So much control, she thought.
That one change in her pulse diverted her attention towards her body and it hit her how this wasn’t enough. That it would never be enough. That she needed more, so much more, and that right now. His warmth gave her security. His presence made her strong. His breathing gave her life. She never felt better – and never worse.
It wasn’t enough.
He adjusted his position, just a little. Leant back, shifted his weight, and she unconsciously tightened her grip, pressed herself closer. His right hand moved further down with hers, now lying under his left side, the arm draped over his side even firmer.
The pain inside grew. He’d leave, be gone. Now he was close, here, and it hurt. Having his body close made her realise what his absence would mean.
It ached physically.
Time passed. Neither of them moved.
She wondered, what if he turned around and they were lying face to face. Would they just lie like this? Maybe. Would they kiss? Possible. Could they stop? Unlikely.
Or would she turn around and let him hold her the way she held him this very moment. Letting him concentrate on her breathing, his face buried in her hair, his lips in the crook of her neck.
Maybe she would simply move into his arms. Her arms slung around his neck, the left hand toying with his short hair, the right one resting on his upper back. Legs still intertwined, his left hand supporting her neck, the other lying on her lower back or her thigh. Until that hand would start to move, absentmindedly, maybe on purpose, up and down her right leg. Both would pretend it didn’t happen, that they still just held each other.
That one hand of hers in his hair would tighten its grip as he would stroke her butt, over and over. She would ignore the hardness of his errection pressing firmly into her, would suppress a moan as he moved his carresses up her back and under her shirt. Just touching her so tender and soft.
She would close her eyes and listen to her body now, at its responses to his touches. She would even try to keep still and silent as his hand moved to the front, removing her bra just that little bit so that he would be able to access her nipple. Just her nipple, nothing else, to tease her. As he would move his rough palm over it, almost not touching and then toying with the already hard bud.
She would still have remainded silent, probably, until he would move his face to kiss her, tenderly, yet passionate.
The man in her arms stirs. She swallows hard, but it is not time for him to leave, not yet. He rearranges the bundle of knotted legs, and she silently smiles as he tries to hide the fact that ione of his has gotten numb.
Then he is still again and she wants to cry. The love she feels for him, the desperation of her needing him close, chokes her. But she knows she wouldn’t want to miss it. She just wishesd it was over. That he was already gone so that she wouldn’t have to watch him leave.
She moves her head and her nose draws a pattern into his short hair. She can feel him tense at this if only for the blink of an eye. But she has caught it. Then he is still again.
Closing her eyes she gives in. Allowing herself to feel the full rush of emotions, good and bad. She has only this opportunity left. And yet she hasn’t.
Her breathing falls into one rythm with his, as she holds him for the first and only time.
*End*
Story Notes: CONTENT WARNINGS: uhm, spoiler for Season 7, I guess before Heroes.
AUTHORS NOTES: This is just short, it has no reference to any episode...it could fit to TLC 2, when they are on the cargo ship or something like that....you decide...or make it AU. I’m just a bit lonely right now.....
THANKS TO: Florian! For being my safety.
FEEDBACK: Oh, yes please! Would be framed, and pinned to the feedback wall.
© Jennifer Renner 2004
AUTHORS NOTES: This is just short, it has no reference to any episode...it could fit to TLC 2, when they are on the cargo ship or something like that....you decide...or make it AU. I’m just a bit lonely right now.....
THANKS TO: Florian! For being my safety.
FEEDBACK: Oh, yes please! Would be framed, and pinned to the feedback wall.
© Jennifer Renner 2004
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]