It had begun, her tears, with the warm washcloth. It was silly perhaps, and in retrospect so completely 'of' him, this gesture. This intimate wonderful gesture, that her eyes had welled up. She could not remember ever having felt so... cared for. And thus, the force of her own foolishness hit her hard, which had only empowered her tears further. And he, poor guy, could only blink at this in concern and ask if she was okay.
It had started with the movie as planned. And became something they did cautiously and politely (and on occasion, teasingly) on a weekly basis for two months. Each becoming more sure of themselves, yet still unsure, or unwilling to believe that the other was still around and happy to be so. It gradually became easier to clasp hands when they walked, or to slip an arm around a waist or shoulder. And the kisses at evening's end became more heated, even exponentially so.
Until this night, this first night of feeling fall's crackle in the air (the tourists would start plowing through town any day now,) when they'd leaned into one another at her door, and instead of saying goodnight, or joking about what she would eat at the diner in the morning, she had clasped his hand wordlessly and led him through her door.
And it wasn't a romance novel sort of thing, or even a joke-filled hot, hot young thing up against a wall. It was, of all things, something tender. They'd guided each other and met each other's eyes and took their time, and bumped noses too. He didn't like the playful bites she liked to give, but had a stamina she hadn't experienced before. Neither were shy about what they wanted to experience or give. This way they began to learn one another.
And, as they lay in the dark room later that night --or was it early morning?-- breathing and thinking, and smiling, though quiet, he got up and slipped into the bathroom. Something else they were being surprisingly adult about, she thought in wonder. Because sex was one thing, but admitting in intimate situations that one had to pee was another.
When he returned, he did not lay down at her side as she expected, but knelt between her knees instead and, after gently nudging them apart, lay a warm wet cloth against her netherlips and tenderly cleaned the stickiness away.
Of all the ways they had tasted and experienced one another throughout the evening, and wonderful and warm as that had been, these acts could not begin to approach the intimacy and, Oh God, love? of this simple gesture. No man had ever tended to her in this way before.
And so, the tears.
When he noticed, he pulled back instantly. She tried to smile reassuringly as she was quite certain she'd lost the power of speech, but saw that he still felt he had made an error in this oh-so-delicate situation. So she sat up quickly and pushed him down, taking the cloth from him as she did so and, returned the gesture.
When she had finished, she sat back on her heels and looked down at him. He looked back with that rare warmth in his eyes and so caught up in this was she, that she didn't even bother to blush.
"What are we doing?" she asked with a quirky smile.
"Hmmm... Lot's of potential for me to really say the wrong thing here, so perhaps you could elaborate?" he returned the smile.
She swiped her hands at her eyes and flicked them away thoughtfully for a moment before looking down at him again.
"You and I... We aren't so young anymore..." she began, biting her lip, "And I want this to be real, Luke. This thing between us. Not just dating. Not just a fling or an affair... but..."
"Real?" he supplied.
She nodded and bit her lip again in uncertainty, waiting.
"I want nothing more," he returned simply.
She expelled a deep breath and lay down beside him, cuddling close.
"That means you have to stay the night," she said in relief and then yawned big, (she'd figure out what it all meant tomorrow) before tossing the now cool cloth over her shoulder and onto the floor.
He grinned large in the dark and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He was too overcome with it all to sleep yet. His mind churning and whirling through what had just been done and said.
He almost laughed out loud in delight then, when he felt her mouth drop slightly open against his chest to allow the cutest little snore he'd ever heard (spread that around and you're dead, by the way) to erupt into quiet night.
And sooner than he'd have thought possible, he was asleep too.