I had a prompt to write Baxley the morning after their wedding night. Hope you like it.
She woke up with an unusual feeling of warmth wrapping over her body, pressing against one of her sides. She smiled as she remembered, turning inwards a little before her eyes flickered open. It could only be the warmth of one thing; skin on skin contact. She opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the morning light in the unfamiliar room, her face level with her husband's.
Joseph was still asleep. She smiled to herself because she had guessed correctly; she'd had him down for a naturally late sleeper. One side of his face was half obscured by the pillow, the blanket not pulled far up over his arm to conceal what looked like- yes, yes it definitely was a lovebite- on the apex of his shoulder. He looked very peaceful. She bit her lip, smiling a little. Curiously, she lifted her side of the blanket as gently as could, looking down at her own body. Sure enough, the was a similar mark on the curve of her hip. She did not bother to bite back the smile as she remembered how it got there. Letting go of the blanket, it buoyed on the air for half a second above her body and then settled down against her skin.
The movement disturbed him, and he stirred a little.
"Shh," she murmured softly to him, stroking his arm just a touch with her fingers, "Go back to sleep, love."
She was enjoying being able to watch him when he looked so unfraught. But her voice seemed to pull him further out of sleep rather than lull him back in. His eyes opened slowly, blinking in the light as she had done. And as she had done, his eyes fell on her, and a smile bloomed on his face before he knew it.
"Hello," he murmured to her almost shyly.
"Hello," she leant forwards, kissing his lips briefly but tenderly, asking him in a low voice, "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes," he replied, grinning a little at her, "Very well. What about you?"
"Very well," she told him, "It's hardly surprising, though," she continued, her hand resting gently against his chest, "I was worn out, after all."
She met his eyes and smiled at him again before pressing her mouth softly against his lips, kissing him longer this time, but just as gently as before. Her hand reached for the back of his head, steadying him against her.
"Thank you for last night," she told him quietly, "It was wonderful."
"You don't have to thank me," he told her in reply, "It should be me thanking you."
She remembered the way his hand had trembled as he traced the line of her neck, the hollow of her throat above the collar of her smart dress; focusing intently, taking her in. She thought about the look on his face. "I never thought…" he had murmured, unable to finish the thought he had not had, the thing he had been unable to imagine. But he did not need to. This was beyond anything she had imagined too. And his face, his face had said it all. Now that look of nervous apprehension had melted away.
"Shall we just say that we're thankful for each other?" he asked, clasping her hand in his as it fell gently away from his face.
She smiled, tugging on the hand he had just taken hold of hers with, raising it to hers lips, kissing his knuckles softly. Then he wrapped his arms snuggly around her, holding her to him. The warmth she had felt when she woke up was subsuming her and she gave a quiet, contented sigh. She could feel his face resting against her hair.
"You alright?" he asked, his voice a little muffled.
"Yes," she replied quietly, her hand resting against his chest, drawing little lines with the tip of her finger on his skin.
He pulled away from her a little.
"I love you, Phyllis Baxter," he told her, very firmly, very seriously.
The corners of her mouth perked up a little.
"Phyllis Molesley," she replied softly.
He looked completely taken aback by his own mistake.
"I suppose that's the sentence that's been going around my head, for ages now," he reasoned out loud, "I suppose I never thought we'd-…."
He trailed off, looking at her in something like wonder.
"You know," she told him, "You have a way of being quiet charming when you're covering up your tracks."
"Well, Mr Carson has given me plenty of practice," he replied.
She laughed softly, resting her head against his chest again.
"And I love you, Joseph Molesley," she told him, "I love you very much."
She felt a kiss being pressed into her hair and she hummed her contentment again. Her eyes fell closed.
"I like this whole being married arrangement," she murmured.
"It's early days yet," he told her, "You never know, you might get sick of me."
"Well, I suppose it's a possibility," she pretend to muse, looking up at him, letting him see that her eyes were glinting with mirth. She was surprised, then, to find, that his look was one of deep devotion, as deep as she had ever seen. She needed to soothe him, and replied, "There again, you might get tired of me."
"Never," he told her.
It was the single word it took for her heart to swell to the point that it felt like it was pushing at her ribs. Lifting her arms up slowly, she latched them gently around his neck, pulling herself closer to him, lifting her mouth to kiss him deeply.
"And I'll never get tired of you," she told him sporadically, between kisses, "I'll never leave you, I promise. I love you."
She heard him sigh into the kiss and gently put her hands on his shoulders, encouraging him to roll onto his back. Moving onto her knees, she lifted one of her thighs, spreading herself over him, straddling his middle. He looked up at her with the same look of wonder he had done before. She leant forwards, pressing her mouth to his again.
"Is this alright?" she asked him softly.
He was breathless, but he nodded fervently. Her thumb stroked against his cheek as she rocked herself carefully against him, teasing him a little. His hands raised up, clasping hers as he tried to control himself.
"God, Phyllis," he murmured.
"It's alright," she told him, "It's alright."
"Please," he told her quietly, "I want you."
She smiled softly, moving herself lower to press firmly against his arousal before guiding him into her. He gave a groan, sitting up, embracing her, burying his face against her chest. Her hands cradled his head gently as she began to rock against him.
"I love you," he told her between desperate breaths, "I love you so much."
She raised his face up with her hands to look at her, pressing a passionate kiss to his mouth, telling him, "I love you too," in return.
end.
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