I know I promised no more fic until my others were completed, but this popped into my head and begged me to write it down. So I did. Enjoy, please.
-- So she did it again --
-- Adorelo --
She loved the way her hands felt, pressed up against his hips.
So she did it again, pulling him ever so closer, rubbing small circles slightly as she whispered comforting words, trying to skirt around the stagnant fact. Marisol. Dead. An oxymoron that should not be so. Eric wept, unashamedly, for the loss of his dear sister, and she was powerless to do anything but hold him. No words could make his pain disappear, and no touch could ease his breaking heart.
She loved the way he smiled at her banter.
So she did it again. And again, and again, until all his smiles were for her. Subconsciously or not, she wanted that, needed that. Needed to be sure he was happy, because his pain cut through her like a knife; her blood shed for his each dying tear.
She loved the way she felt safe in his comfort, not vulnerable.
So she did it again, let herself get lost in his gaze as he apologized for things out of his control, "I'm really sorry this happened to you." Guilt, from both of them and it really wasn't fair, wasn't right that they had to wait until the wake of a disaster to get close to each like that, but, there, it happens again. Bang, bang - shots from her this round, bullets meeting flesh rather than brain.An arm made it around her, and she only let it because she knew she could trust him. Knew she could be safe in his embrace, not oppressed or at risk. Only safe. She proved it to him, felt a compelling need to do so, by grabbing his hand, holding on to her savior tightly. Her touchstone. Her lifeline.
She loved the way their tears mingled, desolation mixing with passion.
So she did it again, another death, another end to a too short life. She let him take her -- or she took him -- scrapping her nails hard on every piece of skin she found, hoping to hurt him at least half as much as she was hurting. Let her cheek rest on his, unsatisfied frowns as neither reached oblivion, dense tears flowing over each as a torrent of emotion washed free. Emotional ecstasy.
She loved the way she let him know what she was thinking.
So she did it again, let him understand with a simple look; she remembered. Turned up and stood by him as he lay down the flowers -- a simply bouquet -- no need for flourishments when it came to Timothy Speedle. So she glanced to him, let him know what she needed and he knew, that was the part she loved so much, he knew what it was. What they both needed. He held her hand gently, bidding soft a birthday wish to their fallen friend; body buried under soil, spirit liberated to fly free.
She loved the way his skin felt against her lips.
So she did it again, lips crashing along his jaw as his arms moved lower, grasping her thighs to lift her high, holding her close when she came hurtling back to earth. She let her lips trail along his chest, hands following in their wake, branding the skin that was now eternally hers. Allowed him a mishap, him pushing her hard against the wall, taking away a fraction of the control she most desperately craved, replacing the void within her with his love. He let her feel his lips on her skin, because it couldn't be a one-way street anymore.
She loved the way she loved him.
So she does it forever, whispering the sentiment to his sleeping form, knowing, even though she cannot admit it yet, that he loves her too. She lets her head fall to his chest, arms closing around his body and places a light kiss to his chest, just above his softly beating heart. She notices his eyes opening, his warm hand sneaking round her to rub her swollen belly. He smiles, happiness reflecting in her eyes as a little kick vibrates from within.
So he does it again.
-- Fin --
-- 01/23/2008 --