unbr8kable | continuations

[There's a soft swell of something in his chest at the words, warm and full and almost unbearably fond. He presses another kiss to her hair, because he's allowed to, and he wants to, and it's a marvel that she's this close, that the warm silk of her hair feels this way through his fingers]

I figure... maybe it'll be better, like this. For, like - for both of us.

Mm...

[It's a hum of agreement, but more than that--hopeful, and intimate, and--careful, almost, as if she's afraid she'll make a misstep and it'll all be gone, somehow, lost despite how greedily she holds it close. A slow beat, and she attempts to send some of her own warmth, share the sense of calm and safety and home she feels just being with him, and hugs him a little more securely]

...I mean. Plenty of time to find out.

[He'd meant sleeping - that the closeness, the soft echo of emotions might take the edge off the nightmares, for once]

[But this - this is even better. The reply sends a flutter of surprise through him, bright and dizzy and full of hope. That sense of safety, that sense of home, makes his eyes sting, so warm and so perfect that it blindsides him]

...yeah. Yeah, that's -

That sounds good.

'Kay.

[Suddenly shy and self-conscious, as if maybe having overplayed her hand, but--well. She ducks her head a little, cheek warm against his shoulder]

...Cool.

[He presses reassurance out her way, a burgeoning sense of quiet joy, a reflection of that feeling of home. His fingers are still moving in her hair, steady and gentle; his voice, when he speaks, is a little unsteady]

...yeah.

[Draws it closer, self-conscious at her greed but hoarding it nonetheless. Her chest is swelled full again, thankful, thankful. When she smiles back up at him, it's wobbly, but broad.]

[The smile he turns back her way is just as wide, just as wobbly. His eyes are maybe suspiciously wet, but probably that's okay. Certainly none of the things he's feeling is sad]

Edited 2020-06-10 04:07 (UTC)

[Just smiles up at him, a little lopsided, for a comfortably long few moments. Then she scoots up to kiss him again, not the heated, hormone-driven urgency of earlier, but more a simple, pure pleasure at just being here like this; instead of a 'please,' more a 'thank you']

[He meets the kiss in kind; it's less needy than before, more soft. His fingers curl into the hair at the base of her skull, gentle - brush against the nub set into the skin there that matches his own]

[Gives a little frisson of a sigh at the sensation; brings up her own hands to cup his face. Strokes mismatched fingers over his jaw as she continues, an endless progression of kisses at an unhurried, almost drowsy pace. She does actually want him to rest; is pleased he might trust her enough to try. She'll pull away and let him, in a minute]

[There's no rush for a minute from now to be now, though]

[He seems just fine for the kisses to keep going - just fine to enjoy the feel of her lips against his, the steady rise and fall of her breathing. His kisses are slow and gentle; whenever they break apart, he can't seem to stop the smile from creeping back over his lips]

[Not much rush at all. Somehow a minute from now is always another minute away...]

[Later...she pulls away and stays away, if nuzzling into his cheek counts as 'away'. She looks down at him, lashes low and a molasses curve over her mouth, slow and sweet and indulgent, pleased at how pleased he seems]

[Seeing that smile makes something in him go somehow even softer, even warmer; something in his chest swells up so tight it aches, in the most breathtaking kind of way]

...this is nice.

[It's a far sight better than nice, and she can feel that, too]

Mm...

[Easy agreement; it's more than true after all. And then nothing more, since just that is enough. Gentle satisfaction radiates from her in waves, a lazy tide at night.

She runs the backs of metal fingers down the line of his neck, fond]

Should crash for a bit....change of pace.

[He shivers a little, at the temperature difference of the metal - leans into the touch, the same way he does with her flesh hand. The emotions curled around him are slow and content, like a dog napping in the sun]

[The softness of the moment, and the gentle satisfaction from her, and his own exhaustion, a background hum that's so ingrained he hardly notices it anymore - all of it combines to make that suggestion sound very good indeed]

...you're gonna try, too, yeah?

Nah... Just gonna just watch you sleep, like a creeper.

[Even linked as they are, it's tough to know exactly how serious she is; what shines through the bond equal parts gentle teasing and genuine appeal]

Comfy?

[There's something flustered and a little surprised in return, but pleased all the same, and very warm]

Yeah... s'real nice.

[He nudges at her; the nudge comes through in his feelings, as well, all soft concern and gentle inquiry]

You're the one who was tired, though. You ain't gonna catch five?

Who says 'm tired?

[This is spoken around a yawn... She snuggles in anyway, comfortable]

Go on, I ain't going nowhere.

[There's a new wave of warmth, when she snuggles in - affection and quiet content, though the concern stays as well, grows broader and deeper at that yawn]

...kay.

Wouldn't hurt you to rest your eyes some, too, though. Just saying.

[His smile is soft; his fingers are still toying with her hair, gentle]

[It is very soothing, the contact and the warmth and the affection, and she pushes some of it back to him: gentle admonishment, a comfort solid enough that brooks no need for concern. Still lightly teasing]

Okay, Dad...

[The concern settles, somewhat, at the admonishment - something almost sheepish, in response to the teasing]

[Not sheepish enough to keep him from asking, though:]

...you comfy enough?

Mm...bony. Should gain like 50 kg.

[She is in fact perfectly content as they are now, satisfaction curling at how neatly they fit together.]

You?

I'm good.

[He is in fact better than good. Better than he's been in a long, long time, all lazy warmth and fond affection]

[She returns the same along with a wave of approval; reaches up to stroke her fingers over his cheek once again]

See ya when you wake, then.

Yeah. See you then.

[But he's still reluctant to let himself doze off - some mix of trepidation at dreams yet to come and the half-formed notion that he'll wake up to discover that this - all of this - has been the dream all along]

[He quashes it all down - takes a breath in, and opens himself up a little wider, to let in what she's feeling. And then, finally, closes his eyes]

Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share

unbr8kable - 2020-06-15 07:49 (UTC) - Expand