PEEL THE DARK AWAY
"Are you OK?" – He asked worried, facing the stifling humidity of the bathroom.
"It's not mine." – She replied shortly, wanting him to close the door and leave her alone.
The vapor was heavy, she knew, the iron-smelling steam of the room forcibly filling her own lungs as well. As the hot water was peeling the dried blood off her body, she was almost drowning inside the thick, gory cloud she'd created.
It wasn't her blood.
It was just the result of an accidental explosion, the remains of their enemy's body stuck on her skin.
It was also the aftertaste of nearly losing him forever.
It's not his blood either, was the only thought she was interested in considering while washing it off.
"Nice shirt." – He chuckled quietly in the soaked sight of hers inside his old T-shirt. She hadn't worn that for ages…
Being back together was a challenge. Sometimes things would flow as if nothing bad had ever happened between them. Dinners, long talks, a few touches here and there, their very own peace and quiet after the long hours at work. Other times, every brick of their walls was back in place, carefully sealing them away from each other's territory.
It was these days of silence, that constant reminder of the long way they still had in front of them. The lies were gone and forgiveness had already been given, but that wandering distance would just insert itself between them and awkwardly pull them apart every so often.
It all came down to the small stuff, those private details they were both trying to overlook. Like the fact they would only make love with the lights off. Or that he'd never suggest dancing when their song was on. Or that she'd stopped wearing his old T-shirt before sleep.
Not today though.
She ignored his implicated question completely. She simply moved forward and collapsed against him, landing unexpectedly on his hug. She hadn't done that for ages either,he thought with a relieved sigh. They stayed still for a while, she straddling him on the couch and him holding her tight inside his arms, both consumed by each other's presence.
"I thought it was you." – She whispered with her face buried under his neck; her fingers framing his face and her lips tracing his pulse.
"Jane… It wasn't." – He pulled her off his chest. "It wasn't me." – He noted slowly, staring into her eyes; his thumb leaving constant caresses on her cheekbone.
"It can never be you." – She stated in the most assertive way, sounding almost childish even to her own ears.
"OK." – He mouthed silently, stabilizing her moving-in-denial head with his hands. "I'm right here." – He smiled, carefully pulling her hair away from her face.
Good, she decisively brought her lips to cover his, continuing her part of the conversation through her kiss.
She was kissing him desperately, pouring her fears into his mouth, but he was responding slowly, eating each one of them confidently away. And as questions and answers were intimately placed between them, four hands found more skin in no time.
"Let them on." – She ordered out of breath, when his worn out T-shirt left her body under the full display of lights.
"I want them on this time." – She replied to his confused smile, pulling him back against her.
"I need to see you."
Maybe a little shorter than our previous stories, but we still hope you liked it! Any thoughts?