Hey, everyone! I've been working on another project, but have hit a bit of a wall on it, and was inspired by all your lovely little drabbles here to write one of my own (thanks for starting this lovely challenge, Emmarae!). This drabble's a bit over the 100 word limit, but I hope you don't mind. It's based off "One Special Night," and was written during a very boring work conference last week. :) Hope you enjoy!
It was cold in the small space inside the windmill, yet Diego was warm. That growing warmth was curled up against him, pressed against his chest and was spilling through the rest of him. The winds were whistling loudly outside the door with the raging storm, and yet his senses were filled with the scents of roses, sunshine, and clean linen. He knew that scent, and the beautiful skin and hair that they emanated from. Victoria.
Diego reached to brush away a tickling sensation at his chin, only to find his fingers moving over a silken head of hair. His eyes popped open as the warmth against him suddenly moved at his touch, and his own body went still. It wasn't a dream. He was really in the windmill where he and Victoria had taken shelter. He looked to the fire, and then to where the bench he'd placed so carefully between them had been. It was gone - and so was Victoria.
"I was cold." Her voice was slightly muffled against his chest, her body still as well, as if the boldness that had motivated her to move the bench and tuck in beside him had suddenly skittered away from her when she realized he was awake.
His smile curled slowly across his lips, and he rested his cheek lightly against her hair as his arms closed around her, his eyes closing in contentment as she relaxed in his embrace and burrowed closer against him. "I was cold too," he whispered. He turned his face into her hair, inhaling deeply as he slowly drifted back to sleep. "But I'm not anymore."