30 Romances Theme Ficlets
Robin/Raven
By Kysra
Theme #1 (Cold hands; feet): Comfort
They bathe by candlelight, three steps and fifteen minutes apart, together in a small room by golden glow with water drops gleaming. She is always first because she is no fool. He is always second because he is no sin. Their eyes meet as she moves to exit the shower - spray cold, her skin shivering; and she is unaffected by the sight of his nakedness, of the erection that is always there to greet her. It is an intimacy of necessity, this small comfort they allow when the memories shift and flow around their already full minds.
He helps her dry the dampness from her body, to dress her when there's nothing left to brush away; and she always watches, moved by his bare eyes and wanting his pursed lips. The candle dims and dies before he is done with his own cleansing, but neither mind for there is a force that connects them through the darkness, allows them to find each other when their eyes cannot. She then returns the favor - drying then dressing, her touch sterile though her heartbeat echoes into his chest. There is always that moment, just before they exit this room of swirling smoke, steam, and darkness that she is still trapped in Hell, waiting for him to make her remember. There is always that memory of her tiny legs stretching across the width of his back, of her small weight perched along his torso.
Possibilities die in those moments, and she becomes as cold as the water that puckered her skin only minutes ago.
They part with the understanding that this can never happen again, that they have had enough time to swallow the changes and accept the ties that bind them. There is a finality to the whispered "good night" and the feel of fingers sliding against fingers; but they know only an hour will pass before the frigid air breaks under her bed clothes and drives her to seek his warmth. And it is understood that he will be waiting, ready at the door to accept her into his bed one more time because he needs the assurance of her body pressing against his length, grown and mature and beautiful; but they know this addiction cannot last. They know it can't be healthy to need this much.
But there is a subtle hint of panic in their eyes when the other is in another room, a tiny spark of animalistic terror in his movements when she disappears to meditate for long periods; and it is understood that the comfort can only be given between them. So they ready for another day, waking before dawn to usher her into her bedroom, setting their faces to begin the play of everything's fine and normal for their friends, knowing that when the sun sets and after the day is over they will be back in that smokey little world of cold and warm comfort until the morning comes again.