Breathe

Yeah, so it’s not even mid-November, and I’m in a NaNoWriMo rut. Linkin Park totally threw out my word count :/ Anyway, goodluck to everyone still on track, writing their way back onto the right track, or just using this as an opportunity to flex the dusty writing-muscle.

 

Everyone has scars. Her fingers tiptoed up his chest, over the scars and stripes marking his chest. Proof that he lived and knew what it meant to fight to survive. Her lips soon followed, and she felt the slow exhale against her hair.

God, they must have had a lot of shots. Maybe she’ll forget this happened when morning rolls around, he thought. It had been a long time since he’d done it with the lights on. Just admitting this to himself made him feel like some self-conscious virgin, but it was the truth.

Going deep cover had changed his life. Hell, coming back to reality after that stint had mixed everything up. Sure, his family was happy about his return, but reconnecting had been hard. So he’d sucked it up and made it look much, much easier than it really was. But in the end, how do you even begin to describe what can simply only be described as a war – a war against others, yourself, your body.

He caught her fingers and moved them to his mouth, kissing them. The look she gave him was full; like there were so many things she wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to express them. He could see it in her eyes, the colour lightening, softening just a little. The walls she hid behind so successfully shivered and stuttered before he found her soft mouth and surprised her with a kiss.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” she muttered, her breath becoming his breath because she didn’t dare break contact.

“Yeah,” he replied before going in for another chaste kiss. She shuddered against the touch, before melting against him, wanting to feel every hard plain of his body against her softer one.

Gabi didn’t want to let go. Her fingers clutched at him, wherever she could reach and hold. His skin burned under her touch and every part of him vibrated with that warmth, that electricity they had ignored for so long. But in that moment, she realised that David maybe felt the exact same way. His lips were still against hers, his hand pressing her harder against him, trailing down her spine.

Finally breaking away from his mouth, Gabi shifted so that she was kneeling above him. A sigh escaped, whether from her or David, she wasn’t too sure. Maybe both of them.

“What happened to you?” She was looking at him hard, taking him in, his golden skin, mottled and marked by time and the things he kept silent. David went stiff. His hands stopped moving and his lips set in a line.

“Gabi…” He hoped she could hear him begging her no. But she remained silent, keeping her gaze on his.

“We don’t know each other well enough to go there,” he whispered.

“I disagree. I think I know you very well.” His lips quirked up a little, but her expression remained the same. Fine, if he thought she was joking…

“I know your favourite flavour ice cream is caramel. You like the colour blue… royal blue, specifically. What else…”

He stopped her there, and started shifting out from underneath her.

“That’s the superficial stuff. That’s the stuff everyone knows.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” her voice was soft, and she moved with him, following him, not letting him squirm out of this situation.

“You’re this great cop, and it’s because you care about people. You know what it means to lose and hurt and hate and feel so angry that pulling the trigger would be so goddamned easy. You’re always scowling or laughing. It’s like there’s no middle ground, but I’m sure there is. You just don’t let anyone in. All this silence between us… It doesn’t make me uneasy or feel awkward. It’s like I can finally breathe again. Sometimes I think you feel the same because you look lighter in those moments. Yeah, I don’t know-know you but I want to.”

True to form, David said nothing. At least he had stopped trying to get out from under her hands, she thought. His face was still hard though.

“I’m still not going there, Gabi.” He saw her expression crumple but she nodded anyway, frozen to the spot.

Just a push from him left her sprawled backwards. “This doesn’t mean we need to stop here.” As if to reinforce his words, he moved between her legs and stole one kiss, another kiss, until he wasn’t sure where his begun and her body ended.

 

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About sonneillon

Avid reader (of sometimes dubious literature), word-lover and crazy TV series watcher. If I could live in a library, I would.

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"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown."

- T. S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (1917)

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